^5- 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/delsdebtOOIippiala 


"  MiU)AM   SEATED   HEBSELF  BEFUBE  THE  GRAND  PIANO." 

(See   p.    aaS.) 


DEL'S    DEBT 


BY 

JULIE  M.  LIPPMANN 


With   Illustrations  by 
VIRGINIA  BENNETT 


PHILADELPHIA 
HENRY  ALTEMUS  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1905, 
By  Henry  Altemus 


DELS  DEBT 

CHAPTER  I 

(^r^  'LONG,  Silvertail,  g'dap!" 

V-J  The  doctor  was  holding  the  reins 
very  loosely  and  old  Silvertail,  his 
horse,  appeared  to  be  having  things  pret- 
ty much  his  own  way  in  the  matters  of 
pace  and  direction.  A  cutting  east  wind 
was  rushing  furiously  across  the  open 
fields,  and  shivering  branches  of  the 
sumach  bushes  and  alder  trees  by  the 
wayside,  but  though  it  whistled  shrilly 
about  the  doctor's  buggy  it  did  not  suc- 
ceed in  rousing  him  from  his  brown 
study.  The  doctor  was  preoccupied  this 
morning :  his  mind  was  full  of  perplexing 
thoughts,  and  so  old  Silvertail  jogged 
along  unheeded  and  the  keen  wind  shook 
the  buggy-top  in  vain. 

At  length  Silvertail  stopped  and 
turned  his  head  around,  giving  the  doctor 
a  broad  stare  from  between  his  blind- 

(1) 

2136766 


2  DePs  Debt 

ers.  This  seemed  to  wake  him  from  his 
musing,  for  he  gathered  the  reins  up  in 
his  hands  and  shook  them  gently  on  the 
horse's  back  with  a  low  cluck  and  a 
''G'long,  Silvertail,  g'dap!"  But  Sil- 
vertail  refused  to  stir,  and  the  doctor, 
now  entirely  awake,  looked  up  and  saw 
coming  toward  him  the  figure  of  a  man 
walking  rapidly  down  the  road,  the  cape 
of  his  great-coat  flapping  wildly  about  in 
the  grasp  of  the  rough  wind,  his  soft  hat 
pulled  down  over  his  eyes,  and  his  hands 
thrust  deep  into  his  pockets. 

As  he  reached  the  spot  where  the  bug- 
gy stood  he  stopped  short  and  the  doc- 
tor greeted  him  with  a  hearty  hand- 
shake, leaning  far  out  over  the  wheel  to 
do  it. 

"You  're  the  very  man  I  want  most  to 
see,  Mr.  Vail, ' '  he  said.  *  'If  you  're  not 
in  too  great  a  hurry  I  wish  you  'd  jump 
in  with  me  and  let  me  take  you  where 
you  want  to  go — meaning  to  cast  no  slur 
on  the  speed  of  good  Silvertail  here. 
I  've  something  to  tell  you :  in  fact,  I  was 
just  on  my  way  to  your  house  to  consult 
you  about  it.  That 's  right.  There! 
take  a  little  more  of  the  robe  and  tuck  it 


BeVs  Debt  3 

well  about  your  knees.  This  wind  has 
a  smack  of  rheumatism  in  it.  G'long 
Silvertail!  You  see,"  he  continued 
when  the  wheels  were  once  more  in  mo- 
tion and  the  young  clergyman  was  seated 
comfortably  beside  him,  ''You  see,  it 's 
something  that  is  really  more  in  jonr 
line  of  business  now  than  mine,  although 
I  don't  mean  by  that  to  shirk  any  re- 
sponsibility. Last  night  I  was  called 
up  to  attend  a  lady,  a  stranger,  who  was 
stopping  at  Jud  Halstead's.  It  seems 
she  came  to  Hillborough  as  much  as  three 
months  ago,  but  though  I  knew  of  it,  of 
course,  it  did  not  seem  to  concern  me 
and  I  let  it  go  in  at  one  ear  and  out  at 
the  other,  as  I  do  all  the  village  gossip. 
But  now  it  appears  I  would  have  done 
better  if  I  had  not  been  quite  so  deaf. 
The  truth  was  she  had  come  here  in  a 
dying  condition  but  would  not  allow 
them  to  send  for  me  because,  poor  fool- 
ish soul,  she  was  afraid  of  running  up  a 
bill  which  she  couldn't  pay — as  if  I  'd 
have  charged  her  a  cent,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances !  Well,  she  grew  so  bad  that 
at  last  Mrs.  Jud  took  matters  into  her 
own  hands  and  sent  for  me  without  her 


4  Del's  Debt 

knowledge.  As  soon  as  I  laid  eyes  on 
her  I  knew  she  could  n't  last  another  day. 
As  it  proved  she  did  n't  last  through  the 
night.  She  passed  away  this  morning. 
Poor  creature,  God  help  her!"  and  the 
kind  doctor  paused  and  looked  wistfully 
over  the  barren  country  to  the  line  of 
the  distant  hilltops.  The  clergj^man 
murmured  something  beneath  his  breath 
and  then  for  a  little  they  rode  on  in 
silence. 

' '  But  the  saddest  part  of  the  story  is 
this,"  continued  the  doctor  rather  gruff- 
ly: "the  woman  had  a  daughter — a  little 
girl  of  about  fourteen  or  so,  and  now  she 
is  left  quite  destitute  and  alone,  the  most 
desolate  little  thing  you  ever  saw.  Just 
the  age  of  my  Sally,  and  left  to  fight 
against  the  world  single-handed.  I  say, 
Mr.  Vail,  you  must  excuse  me,  but — ^but 
— this  is  a  very  windy  day;  it  makes  a 
man's  eyes  water  when  the  gale  strikes 
him  clean  in  the  face." 

The  young  minister  looked  another 
way  while  the  doctor  drew  out  an  enor- 
mous pocket-handkerchief,  pressed  it  to 
his  eyes,  and  then  blew  into  it  a  loud, 
long  trumpet-note. 


Del's  Debt  5 

''When  I  left,  about  two  hours  ago, 
the  child  was  sitting  very  quietly  beside 
her  dead  mother,  not  crying  or  wailing, 
but  just  looking  at  her  and  absolutely 
refusing  to  go  away.  I  got  Jud  Hal- 
stead's  wife  to  tell  me  all  she  knew  of  the 
people,  which  proved  to  be  precious  lit- 
tle. They  came  to  her  about  three 
months  ago  and  she  took  them  to  board. 
The  mother,  a  refined  and  cultured  lady, 
said  they  came  from  New  York  and  were 
thinking  of  remaining  in  Hillborough  if 
there  was  a  possibility  of  her  getting 
work  here — any  work  would  do  so  long 
as  she  could  earn  an  honest  living  by  it, 
she  said.  Work !  Why,  apart  from  the 
fact  that  she  was  a  gentlewoman  who 
had  probably  never  done  a  stroke  of 
hard  work  for  pay  in  all  her  life,  the 
poor  thing  was  scarcely  able  to  hold  her 
head  up  at  the  time.  However,  they 
stayed  on  and  still  on,  and  in  the  mean- 
time Jud  Halstead's  wife  didn't  see  a 
penny  of  her  cash.  The  mother  kept 
assuring  her  she  would  be  paid,  that 
there  was  money  coming  from  New  York 
that  would  be  enough  to  square  the  en- 
tire debt  of  their  board;  but  the  money 


6  Del's  Debt 

did  n't  seem  to  get  there,  and  that  is  just 
the  condition  of  affairs  at  this  moment. 
The  woman  is  dead,  the  money  owing  to 
Mrs.  Jud  is  n't  in  sight,  and  the  poor  lit- 
tle girl  is  left  perfectly  friendless  unless 
we  constitute  ourselves  a  committee  of 
two  to  stand  by  her  and  lift  her  over  this 
hard  place." 

For  a  moment  or  so  after  the  doctor 
stopped  speaking  there  was  silence  in 
the  buggy.  Then  the  young  clergyman 
said:  ''Will  you  take  me  to  Mrs.  Jud's, 
Doctor  Emmet?  I  want  to  make  a  very 
careful  investigation  of  this  case,  and  if 
it  is  all  as  plausible  as  it  sounds  we  can 
speak  to  Mr.  Middlebrook.  He  is  al- 
ways our  standby  in  such  cases  and  he 
would  know  just  what  to  do  and  how  to 
do  it." 

Silvertail  felt  the  reins  flap  gently  on 
his  back,  took  the  hint,  and  broke  into 
a  brisk,  unexpected  trot,  which  soon 
brought  them  into  the  wide  main  street 
of  the  village  and  up  to  the  curb  in  front 
of  a  rather  shabby,  low-set  house,  which 
the  neighborhood  knew  as  ''Jud  Hal- 
stead's."  Mrs.  Jud  herself  appeared 
upon  the  door-step  as  soon  as  the  doctor 


Del's  Debt  7 

stepped  out  of  the  buggy,  and  even  be- 
fore he  had  made  Silvertail's  tie-rope 
fast  to  the  hitching-post  she  had  begun 
to  talk  to  him  across  the  tiny  dooryard. 
''Sh!"  she  said  wamingly.  "Come 
right  into  the  livin'-room  and  be  as  quiet 
as  you  can.  She — I  mean  the  little  girl, 
Del,  you  know — she  's  ben  took  down, 
and  Rhoda's  with  her  now  takin'  my 
place  so  's  I  can  talk  to  you  before  you  go 
up.  You  know.  Doctor  Emmet,  I  told 
you  about  Mrs.  Douglas's  promisin'  me 
my  money,  which  she  said  she  was  expect- 
in'  every  day  to  come  from  New  York? 
Well,  God  forgive  me  for  doubtin'  her 
word!  If  this  ain't  a  contrary  world! 
"Would  you  believe  it,  after  waitin'  for  it 
all  these  weeks,  till  she  was  clean  tuck- 
ered out,  if  it  didn't  come  this  mornin' 
by  the  first  mail.  I  took  the  letter  up  to 
Del  and  she  opened  it  an'  out  come  the 
check.  When  Del  saw  it  she  looked  at  it 
for  a  minit  a-lyin '  in  her  lap  and  then  f er 
the  first  time  since  her  mother  died  she 
up  and  burst  out  cryin',  an'  kissed  the 
dead  one's  hand,  sayin'  over  an'  over, 
'It  's  come.  Mamma,  it  's  come!  Please 
know  it  's  come !  dearest.    Now  I  can  pay 


8  BeVs  Debt 

the  debt. '  and  then  she  handed  me  the  pa- 
per an'  before  I  could  put  a  finger  to  her 
she  was  down  on  the  floor,  flat  as  a  grid- 
dle-cake and  pale  as  a  dumplin,'  an'  since 
she  come  to  she  ain't  been  a  mite  like 
herself:  her  eyes  look  so  queer  and  she 
keeps  mutterin'-like  under  her  breath." 

'*I  '11  go  to  her,"  said  Doctor  Emmet, 
and  without  more  ado  he  strode  up  the 
dismally  creaking  stairs,  leaving  Mrs. 
Jud  and  Mr.  Vail  to  follow  or  not,  as  they 
chose.  When  there  was  work  to  be  done 
Doctor  Emmet  never  waited  for  any  one 
else  to  take  the  lead. 

It  was  a  cheerless  little  room  into 
which  he  stepped.  The  ceiling  was  low 
and  the  walls  were  bare  and  cold.  What 
there  was  of  furniture  was  cheap  and 
coarse  and  the  matting  on  the  floor  gave 
out  a  musty  smell  of  damp  straw.  But 
the  doctor  noticed  none  of  these  things : 
he  was  giving  all  his  attention  to  the  lit- 
tle figure,  lying  in  a  huddled  heap  across 
the  bed,  whose  hot  face  was  pressed 
tightly  against  the  counterpane  and 
whose  burning  hands  were  dry  and 
parched  with  fever.  Rhoda  Halstead, 
Mrs.  Jud 's  awkward,  big-hearted  daugh- 


DePs  Debt  9 

ter,  had  unbraided  Del's  mass  of  shining 
hair  to  ease  her  aching  head,  and  it  hung 
in  great  bronze  waves  over  the  bedside 
until  it  touched  the  floor.  It  seemed  the 
one  bright  thing  in  all  the  dreary  house. 

Mrs.  Jud  had  followed  the  doctor  soft- 
ly up-stairs  and  when  he  turned  upon 
Rhoda  and  demanded  in  his  blunt,  per- 
emptory way,  but  too  low  for  Del  to 
hear,  if  this  was  the  sunniest,  airiest 
room  in  the  house,  she  answered  in  the 
girl's  stead  saying:  ''Why,  no,  it  ain't. 
Doctor.  This  is  the  east  chamber,  you 
know,  and  it's  gener'ly  dull  like  it  is 
now.  But  Del  don't  mind  that  and  her 
Ma,  she  did  n't  either.  I  let  'em  have  it 
cheaper  because — " 

"Be  kind  enough  to  get  the  south- 
west room  ready  at  once.  Put  clean 
sheets  on  the  bed  and  air  the  place 
thoroughly.  Build  an  open  fire  on  the 
hearth  to  get  the  dampness  out.  This 
child  must  be  given  every  chance  for  her 
life — she  may  not  have  many." 

''Chance  for  her  life.  Doctor?"  stam- 
mered Mrs.  Jud  weakly,  clutching  at  his 
arm,  "You  don't  mean — " 

"Typhoid!"  whispered  the  doctor  in 


10  Del's  Debt 

her  ear,  as  lie  all  but  pushed  her  out  of 
the  door  in  his  eagerness  to  see  her 
started  on  her  errand. 

Mr.  Vail,  waiting  down-stairs,  heard 
heavy  steps  and  much  moving  about  in 
the  room  just  above  him,  and  wondered 
what  all  the  commotion  meant.  When 
Rhoda  came  down  presently  to  get  the 
kindlings  and  logs  for  the  open  fire  the 
doctor  had  ordered,  she  answered  his 
questions  between  sniffs  of  real  sorrow. 

''He  saj^s  she  's  awful  sick,  Del  is," 
she  whispered  half  crying.  ''He  says 
she  's  got  the  fever  and  she  must  have 
every  chanct  for  her  life.  He  says  we  'd 
oughter  of  called  him  before.  But  land, 
how  cud  we  know  what  ailed  her?  She 
never  fretted  a  mite  and  kep '  saying  her 
headache  wasn't  much  of  anything,  an' 
her  Ma  she  would  n  't  see  Doctor  Emmet, 
sick  as  she  was,  till  the  very  last  minit, 
on  account  of  not  havin'  any  money  to 
pay  him  with,  an'  oh,  Mr.  Vail,  won't  you 
please  to  ast  the  congergation  to  pray  in 
church  that  Del  '11  get  well.  She  had  n't 
oughter  die — she's  so  turrible  nice." 

Saddened  as  he  was,  Mr.  Vail  had  all 
he  could  do  to  hide  a  smile.    But  he  an- 


Del's  Debt  H 

swered  Rhoda  gravely  that  she  might 
depend  upon  it  everything  would  be  done 
that  could  be  done  to  save  Del 's  life,  and 
then  he  bade  her  say  to  Doctor  Emmet 
that  he  had  gone  to  Mr.  Middlebrook's 
and  would  probably  be  back  within  half 
an  hour. 

With  the  cool-headed,  quick-witted 
doctor  to  direct  them,  Mrs.  Jud  and 
Rhoda  soon  had  the  southwest  chamber 
in  apple-pie  order ;  and  as  soon  as  it  was 
done  they  carried  Del  there  and  put  her  in 
the  big  black-walnut  bed  which  was  Mrs. 
Jud's  pride  because  it  had  great  bunches 
of  overgrown  black-walnut  fruit  glued 
on  the  headboard  and  foot-piece  and  had 
come  from  New  York,  where  it  cost  $20 
in  a  second-hand  shop  on  Sixth  Avenue. 
But  Del  did  not  realize  her  privilege. 
She  knew  in  a  sort  of  confused  way  that 
the  doctor  was  there — the  great  broad- 
shouldered  doctor,  with  the  gruff,  kindly 
voice.  But  it  didn't  seem  to  make  any 
difference.  Nothing  seemed  to  make 
any  difference.  The  things  she  was 
dreaming  and  the  things  which  ap- 
peared to  be  actually  happening  kept 
getting  dreadfully  mixed  in  her  mind, 


12  Del's  Debt 

but  it  was  too  much  trouble  to  try  to 
straighten  tliem  out.    For  instance,  she 
dreamed,  or  it  actually  happened,  she 
did  not  in  the  least  know  nor  care  which, 
that  by  and  by  there  were  more  people 
in  tlie  room.     Crowds  of  strangers.     No 
— not  crowds,  of  course,  but  certainly  a 
good  many.    What  were  all  these  people 
doing  in  her  room,   she  would  like  to 
know,  and  why  did  they  look  so  solemn? 
There   was   nothing  for  them  to   look 
solemn  about.     Oh !     She  knew  perfectly 
well  who  they  were  now.     One  was  Mr. 
Vail,  the  minister.     She  had  often  seen 
him  in  church.    But  what  was  he  doing 
here,  in  Mrs.   Jud's   best  spare-room? 
And  the  other  was — the  other  man  who 
was    not    Doctor   Emmet  was — 0,    she 
could  n't  remember  his  name,  but  she  had 
seen  him  often  enough  upon  the  street 
and  she  knew  him  well  by  sight.     There, 
now !  his  name  had  come  back  to  her.    It 
was    Middlebrook.     He   was    May   and 
Margaret     Middlebrook 's     father.     He 
owned  the  finest  house  in  town — up  on 
the  hill  where  the  beautiful  view  was. 
And  May  and  Margaret  had  ponies  and 
a  cart — a  village-cart.     They  came  ch*^- 


Bel's  Debt  13 

tering  into  the  main  street  every  day — 
hair  flying,  ribboned  whip  snapping,  and 
the  ponies  scampering  for  dear  life  as  if 
they  were  indeed  two  of  the  ' '  three  blind 
mice"  in  the  nursery-rhyme  and  the 
farmer's  wife  was  after  them. to  ''cut  off 
their  tails  with  a  carving-knife. "  "  The 
Middlebrook  twins"  were  always  in  a 
gale  of  fun,  and  there  had  been  times 
when  Del  had  almost  envied  them,  they 
looked  so  light-hearted  and  care-free  and 
fortunate.  But  when  she  felt  that  way 
she  always  reminded  herself  that  they 
had  no  mother,  while  hers  was  the  dear- 
est and  best  in  all  the  world.  And  now 
— 0,  no,  no!  It  was  not  true — it 
could  n  't  be  true  that  she  herself  had  no 
mother  now!  No,  no,  no!  But  hark! 
Mr.  Middlebrook  was  saying —  Sure- 
ly, it  was  very  curious  that  Del  should 
be  in  bed  in  the  daytime  and  that  she 
should  be  dreaming  her  mother  had  died 
and  that  May  and  Margaret  Middle- 
brook's  father  was  standing  beside  her 
pillow,  looking  down  at  her  pitifully,  oh, 
so  pitifully  and  saying: 

"As  soon  as  she  is  able  to  be  moved 
I  am  going  to  carry  her  home  with  me 

2  —  Del's  Debt 


14  Del's  Debt 

and  if  it  turns  out  that  she  has  no  one 
to  claim  her  I  think — yes,  I  have  made 
up  my  mind — if  she  can  be  happy  with 
us,  I  do  not  see  any  reason  why  I 
should  n't  adopt  her  right  into  my  family 
and  give  May  and  Margaret  a  new  sis- 
ter, do  you?" 

But  though  Del  struggled  very  hard 
to  convince  herself,  she  could  not  quite 
believe  that  this  was  true  and  not  a  curi- 
ous dream,  for  when  she  opened  her  eyes 
to  look  again  and  prove  to  herself  that 
tlie  doctor  and  Mr.  Vail  and  Mr.  Mid- 
dlebrook  were  actually  beside  her,  lo! 
it  was  night  and  the  room  was  quite  dark 
except  for  a  little  spirit-lamp  which  was 
burning  on  the  table  near  at  hand  and 
by  whose  dim  light  she  could  see  Mrs. 
Jud  sitting  fast  asleep  in  a  big  arm- 
chair and  snoring  very  loud. 


CHAPTER  II 

''What 's  up.  Daddy,  darling?" 
''Tell  us  the  news  quick.    We  're  just 
dying  to  know." 

"We  peeked  over  the  balusters  and 


Del's  Debt  15 

saw  Mr.  Vail  come  in  and  whisk  you  off. 
Where  did  he  take  you?  What  's  the 
latest?" 

Mr.  Middlebrook  smiled  as  he  pre- 
tended to  shake  himself  free  from  ''the 
twinnies'  "  embraces. 

''Stony-hearted  daughters^"  he  ex- 
claimed with  mock  severity  and  re- 
proach. "Here  I  have  been  away  from 
5^ou  for  an  entire  hour  or  more  and  be- 
fore I  can  fairly  get  across  the  threshold 
you  set  upon  me  like  two  highwaymen 
and  pepper  me  with  questions — not  as 
to  whether  I  am  cold  or  hungry,  0  no! 
little  you  care  about  tJiat!  but  only  as  to 
'what  is  up'  and  the  'latest  news.'  " 

' '  '  Cold  or  hungry ! '  pooh !  As  if  you 
minded  being  those  when  there  's  any- 
thing tragic  going  on ! "  exclaimed  May, 
giving  him  a  fond  pat  on  the  shoulder. 

"Yes,  we  know  it's  something  tragic, 
and  that  you  're  going  to  help  make  it 
right,  as  usual.  But  what  is  it?  Tell 
quick,  please  do!"  pleaded  Margaret. 

Mr.  Middlebrook  permitted  himself  to 
be  robbed  of  his  hat  and  overcoat  and 
borne  down  bodily  into  a  huge  chair  be- 
fore the  blazing  hall-room  fire,  the  twin- 


16  Del's  Debt 

nies  perching  one  upon  either  side  of 
him,  each  with  an  arm  about  his  neck. 

'^Now  begin!"  they  commanded  in  a 
breath. 

** Suppose  there  is  nothing  to  tell,"  he 
suggested. 

' '  0,  pshaw ! ' '  May  cried,  * '  we  know  bet- 
ter," while  Margaret  added,  *^  There  's 
always  something  to  tell." 

''True  for  you,  little  daughter,  there 
always  is  something  to  tell — and  the  pity 
of  it  is,  so  much  of  the  time  we  shut  our 
ears  and  won't  listen,"  said  Mr.  Mid- 
dlebrook  gravely. 

And  then  he  told  them,  as  briefly  and 
simply  as  possible,  the  story  he  had  just 
heard  from  Mr.  Vail  and  Doctor  Emmet 
of  Del  and  her  mother  and  how  the  child 
lay  dangerously  sick  at  Jud  Halstead's 
house — a  little  stranger,  penniless  and 
forlorn,  with  not  a  soul  of  her  own  blood 
to  stretch  out  a  helping  hand  to  her  or 
stand  in  place  of  the  dear  one  she  had 
lost.  By  the  time  he  had  done  Mar- 
garet's eyes  were  brimming  and  May 
had  turned  her  face  away  to  hide  its  tell- 
tale twitching. 

For  a  moment  or  two  after  Mr.  Mid- 


Del's  Debt  17 

diebrook  had  stopped  talking  there  was 
a  deep  silence  in  the  room,  which  the 
ticking  of  the  big  clock  in  the  corner  and 
the  twittering  of  the  burning  logs  upon 
the  hearth  did  not  seem  to  interrupt. 
Then  suddenly  the  twinnies  pulled  them- 
selves together  and  May  broke  out  im- 
pulsively in  her  quick-spoken,  emphatic 
fashion : 

' '  Well,  as  far  as  I  can  see  there  's  only 
one  thing  to  do.  She  's  got  to  be 
brought  right  straight  up  here.  She 
can't  stay  down  there  in  the  village  in 
that  stuffy  little  house,  tucked  away 
back  of  the  street,  while  she  's  sick.  It 
would  give  me  fits,  if  I  had  a  fever,  to 
have  Mrs.  Jud  hovering  'round.  Her 
nose  wriggles  when  she  talks,  and  she  's 
forever  talking.  We  '11  have  to  have  her 
up  here  for  a  while,  Daddy !  There  's  no 
other  way." 

''She  can  have  my  room,"  said  Mar- 
garet, ''and  I  '11  bunk  in  with  you,  May. 
The  guest-chambers  aren't  half  so  cozy 
and  comfy  as  ours;  that  is,  /  don't 
think  they  are,  and  by  the  time  she  gets 
well—" 

But  her   father  checked  Margaret's 


18  Del's  Debt 

torrent  of  words  at  full  tide.  ''She 
may  never  get  well,"  lie  said  quietly. 

For  a  second  the  twins  stood  quite 
still,  their  faces  paling  and  their  eyes 
growing  large  with  wonder.  It  seemed 
so  strange,  so  awe-ful,  to  think  that  a  girl 
of  their  own  age — as  young  and  full  of 
life  as  they — could  die. 

*' Doctor  Emmet  says  she  has  a  bare 
fighting  chance,"  continued  Mr.  Mid- 
dlebrook.  ''Of  course  everything  that 
can  be  done  for  her  will  be,  but  neverthe- 
less— she  may  not  get  well." 

"0,  she  must!  she  must!  she  shall!" 
cried  May  vehemently.  ' '  Why,  it  would 
be  just  dreadful  if  she  did  n  't.  Now  that 
we  know  about  her  it  would  almost  seem 
as  though  she  had  been  neglected  if  she 
— if  she  were  allowed  to — not  get  well. ' ' 

"The  shock  of  her  mother's  death  and 
the  knowledge  that  she  is  alone  in  the 
world  will  tell  against  her,  I  am  afraid. 
Half  the  battle  would  be  won  if  we  could 
make  her  feel  that  she  is  loved  and  need- 
ed in  the  world,  that  she  has  a  home  and 
a  place  in  our  hearts  awaiting  her.  It 
is  only  such  a  thought  as  this  that  will 


Del's  Debt  19 

give  her  courage  to  overcome  her 
trouble  and  fight  for  her  life. ' ' 

In  the  pause  that  followed  their 
father's  slowly-spoken  words,  the  twins 
looked  at  each  other  with  wide-open  eyes. 
They  read  his  meaning  perfectly  and 
for  a  moment  were  stunned  by  it.  It 
is  one  thing  to  say  to  a  stranger — a  girl 
you  do  not  even  know  by  sight :  * '  Come 
to  our  house  and  stay  till  you  're  en- 
tirely well.  We  '11  do  everything  we  can 
to  make  you  happy  wliile  you  're  with 
us,"  and  quite  another  to  offer  to  share 
your  father  and  home  with  her  for  good 
and  all.  It  would  have  been  easy 
enough  to  be  Del's  hostesses,  but  it  was 
far  from  easy  to  give  her  equal  rights 
with  theirs. 

'*0  dear!"  sighed  Margaret  at  last, 
with  an  impatient  little  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  as  if  she  wanted  to  shake  off 
a  burden.  May  made  a  wry  face  and 
flung  herself  upon  the  rug  at  her  father's 
feet  with  a  sort  of  groan.  Mr.  Middle- 
brook  did  not  attempt  to  help  them  out 
of  their  difficulty.  He  was  thinking: 
' '  How  quick  we  are  to  cry  out  over  peo- 


20  Pel's  Debt 

pie's  wrongs  and  how  slow  we  are  to 
allow  them  their  rights. ' ' 

''She  may  be  perfectly  horrid,"  Mar- 
garet sighed  out  at  length. 

''0,  she  probably  is,"  snapped  May 
hopelessly.  ''As  likely  as  not  she  's  the 
whining  kind,  and  of  all  detestable 
things!  or  she  may  be  a  freak — Just 
think  what  it  would  mean  to  have  a  freak 
always  'round !  Never  to  be  able  to  get 
rid  of  her  for  a  minute  because  she  he- 
longs." 

Still  Mr.  Middlebrook  was  silent. 

"I  think  you  might  help  us  out  a  bit, 
Daddy,  with  advice  and  things.  If  you 
tell  us  what  we  ought  to  do,  of  course 
we  '11  do  it,"  declared  Margaret,  after 
another  long,  oppressive  pause. 

Her  father  smiled.  "That  is  good 
and  obedient  of  you,  dautie,"  he  re- 
turned, "but  this  is  a  case  in  which  I 
could  n't,  in  justice  all  'round,  undertake 
to  direct  you.  It 's  a  matter  you  must 
decide  for  yourselves.  It  's  a  question  I 
must  leave  you  to  settle  with  your  con- 
sciences." 

But  this  brought  May  to  her  feet  in  an 
instant,   "No,  no!    Don't,  don't,"   she 


Del's  Debt  21 

cried,  struggling  between  laughter  and 
tears.  ''Don't  leave  me  to  settle  it  with 
my  conscience.  I  just  hate  it  when  I  'm 
left  to  settle  things  with  my  conscience. ' ' 

"Well,  I  s'pose  then  there  's  nothing 
more  to  be  said,"  Margaret  announced 
grimly.  "Of  course  if  you  leave  us  to 
settle  it  with  our  conscience  she  '11  have 
to  come." 

"Not  at  all,"  returned  Mr.  Middle- 
brook  decidedly.  ' '  There  's  no  '  have  to ' 
about  it.  You  and  May  are  entirely  free 
to  choose  for  yourselves  what  course 
you  will  take.  No  one  influences  you 
and  no  one  suggests  that  you  do  any- 
thing you  do  not  feel  to  be  right.  If 
you  say  you  have  concluded  it  is  best 
that  she  should  not  come,  I  shall  know 
you  really,  sincerely  feel  it  is  so  and  I 
shall  not  say  a  word  in  reproach. ' ' 

"But  you  '11  'keep  up  the  power  of  a 
thinkin','  as  they  say  of  the  parrot," 
declared  May,  laughing  through  puck- 
ered eyebrows.  "0,  we  know  you, 
Daddy  Middlebrook.  No,  it  can't  be 
dodged !  We  've  got  to  have  her.  But 
if  she  comes  here  and  goes  shares  with 
us  in  the  nice  things  she  '11  have  to  go 


22  Del's  Debt 

shares  in  the  nasty  ones,  too.  If  she's 
going  to  belong  here  for  good  and  all 
and  is  n't  just  company,  why  she  '11  have 
to  take  her  part  of  Margaret's  sulks  and 
my  temper  and  grin  and  bear  'em.  She 
can  stand  up  for  herself,  if  she  wants  to, 
but  she  need  n't  think  she  's  going  to  be 
molly-coddled  and  spoiled,  for  she  is  n't, 
and  you  can  tell  her  so.  We  '11  play  fair 
if  she  will,  but  we  don't  want  any  cry- 
babies round  and  we  simply  won't  put 
up  with  a  telltale.  You  'd  better  warn 
her,  Daddy,  so  she  '11  know  beforehand 
what  she  's  going  into. ' ' 

''Now,  see  here,  young  ladies,"  their 
father  announced, ' '  I  think  you  '11  admit 
that  on  the  whole  I  'm  an  accommodating 
parent,  but  I  absolutely  refuse  to  carry 
messages.  Whatever  you  do  you  must 
do  yourselves  and  whatever  you  have  to 
say  you  must  say  yourselves.  Besides, 
please  recollect  that  nothing  of  any  seri- 
ous nature  can  be  told  the  child  now, 
and  later — ^well,  we  cannot  say.  She 
may  not  get  well  at  all,  you  know. ' ' 

''Get  well,"  interrupted  May,  flushing 
hotly.  "I  tell  you  she  's  got  to  get 
well." 


Del's  Debt  23 

''And  even  if  she  does,  recover,"  con- 
tinued Mr.  Middlebrook  slowly,  *4t  is 
just  possible  that  she  may  have  family 
connections  who  ^dll  claim  her. ' ' 

''Why,  I  thought  you  said  she  had  no 
one  at  all  to  claim  her, ' '  interposed  Mar- 
garet. 

"That  is  how  it  appears  to  be,  cer- 
tainly," her  father  admitted.  "But  we 
are  in  honor  bound  to  give  her  every 
chance,  and  I  mean  to  go  into  town  to- 
morrow to  set  Mr.  Gardiner  investi- 
gating. We  have  found  a  few  papers 
among  her  poor  mother's  belongings 
which  may  guide  us,  and,  of  course,  if  she 
has  people  of  her  own  she  will  prefer 
them  to  strangers  like  ourselves." 

May's  lip  curled  disdainfully.  "Nice 
people  they  must  be,  to  let  her  and  her 
mother  come  here  alone  to  die !  If  she 
preferred  them  to  us  I'd  have  my  own 
opinion  of  her!  Besides,  even  if  they 
were  really  ever  so  nice,  how  could  she 
prefer  them  to  us,  for  we're  lots  and  lots 
nicer,  I  just  know  we  are,  so  there ! ' ' 

Her  father  pinched  the  saucy  round 
chin  which  was  twitching  a  little  in  its 
effort  to  hold  back  a  laugh,  and  kissed 


24  Del's  Debt 

May  on  the  forehead.  He  knew  the  bat- 
tle was  won  and  that  if  Del  got  well  and 
came  to  them  now  she  would  have  a  royal 
welcome.  In  fact,  from  that  moment 
the  twins  began  active  preparations  for 
her  coming,  throwing  themselves  heart 
and  mind  into  the  business  of  making 
her  room  ready  and  planning  surprises 
which  were  so  delightful  that  the  mere 
mention  of  them  set  the  girls,  Sallie  Em- 
met and  Clare  Van  Ness,  whom  they 
took  into  their  confidence,  to  giggling 
with  appreciation. 

And  meanwhile  Del  lay  tossing  in 
fever,  unconscious  of  everything  going 
on  about  her,  in  Mrs.  Jud's  melancholy 
"best  room."  Day  followed  day.  Mrs. 
Douglas  was  buried  in  the  quiet  Hill- 
borough  cemetery,  and  Doctor  Emmet 
was  almost  ready  to  declare  that  Del  had 
lost  her  ''bare  fighting  chance,"  and 
would  follo.w  her  mother.  But  at  last 
there  came  a  change  and  she  once  more 
opened  conscious  eyes  upon  the  actual 
world  about  her.  The  first  thing  she 
saw  was  the  doctor's  kind  face.  She 
thought  she  had  seen  it  before — some- 
where— but  she  could  not  quite  remem- 


Del's  Debt  25 

ber  where,  and,  being  too  languid  to  puz- 
zle it  out,  she  gave  him  a  wan  little  smile 
and  passed  off  into  a  quiet  sleep.  The 
good  doctor  rubbed  his  hands  together 
joyfully. 

'  ^  Why,  bless  her  heart !  This  is  fine ! 
We  '11  have  her  a  well  girl  yet  in  spite  of 
old  typhoid,  that  we  shall, ' '  he  muttered 
to  himself  with  real  tears  of  pleasure  in 
his  keen  old  eyes. 

W^hen  Del  woke  again  it  was  to  find 
the  room  quite  dark,  but  as  she  got  more 
used  to  the  shadows,  lying  listlessly  with 
open  eyes,  scarcely  knowing  where  she 
was,  she  could  distinguish  the  tiny  flame 
of  a  little  night-lamp  on  the  table  be- 
yond, and  beside  it,  in  a  stiff-backed 
chair,  Mrs.  Jud  sitting  snoring  peace- 
fully. She  lay  for  some  minutes  gazing 
indifferently  at  the  sight,  which  was 
somehow  strangely  familiar  to  her,  and 
then  before  she  was  aware,  things 
seemed  to  fade  from  her  and  grow  misty 
and  vague,  and  the  next  thing  of  which 
she  was  conscious  was  the  sound  of 
voices  talking  in  low,  hushed  tones  by 
her  bedside.  At  first  she  did  not  seem 
to  realize  they  were  voices  at  all,  but 


26  Del's  Debt 

by  and  by  she  could  distinguish  a  word 
here  and  there,  though  she  was  too 
drowsy  to  care  much,  and  simply  lay  in 
a  dreamy,  dozy  state  without  enough 
energy  to  even  listen. 

' '  There  is  no  doubt  about  it,  she  is  go- 
ing to  recover.  Of  course  she  '11  need 
great  care,  and  for  a  long  time  she'll 
have  to  be  very  tenderly  nursed,  but  in 
the  end  she  '11  be  as  healthy  as  your  own 
twins  or  my  Sally,  and  that  's  saying 
enough,  isn't  it?"  whispered  one  voice. 

''Indeed  it  is,"  replied  another  voice. 
And  now  Del  seemed  to  hear  quite  dis- 
tinctly, tliough  she  was  still  too  listless 
to  open  her  eyes.  ''Well,  I  can  never 
thank  you  enough  for  pulling  her 
through.  Doctor  Emmet,  for  I  feel  as  if 
she  were  my  own,  now  I  have  found  her 
New  York  connections  don't  want  to 
claim  her.  Just  as  soon  as  you  say 
there  's  no  further  danger  and  that  there 
would  n't  be  the  slightest  risk  in  moving 
her,  I  '11  come  and  carry  her  home  with 
me,  and  there  she  '11  remain  and  be  cared 
for  as  a  beloved  daughter  until  the  time 
comes  when  she  '11  want  to  leave  the  old 
man  and  make  a  home  for  herself." 


Del's  Debt  27 

For  an  instant  there  was  no  further 
sound  and  then  she  heard  the  first  voice 
say: 

"Well,  Mr.  Middlebrook,  the  Lord  has 
certainly  tempered  the  wind  to  the 
shorn  lamb  this  time.  She  will  be  a 
comfort  and  blessing  to  you  I  have  no 
doubt.  She  '11  owe  you  a  debt  she  could 
hardly  pay  in  a  lifetime,  but  I  hope  she 
will  try  to  repay  you  and  I  think  she 
will.  She  seems  like  an  honest,  true — 
Sh!  She  's  opening  her  eyes — she  's 
waking  up ! " 

Then  in  quite  a  new,  brisk  tone : 

"Hullo!  What's  this?  Had  a  nice 
nap,  eh  ?  I  am  Doctor  Emmet.  I  intro- 
duced myself  to  you  once  before,  but  I 
guess  you  didn't  take  it  in  at  the  time. 
And  this  is  Mr.  Middlebrook." 

Del  looked  up  and  then  tried  to  speak, 
but  the  doctor  shook  his  head. 

"No,  no,  we  won't  ask  any  questions 
yet  awhile,  little  woman.  We  '11  just  try 
to  get  well  as  fast  as  we  can,  and  if  we 
begin  to  wonder  about  things  we  '11  tire 
ourselves  all  out.  Better  not  think  at 
all  for  a  while,  but  let  us  do  it  for  you." 

He  looked  down  at  her  with  a  very 


28  Del's  Debt 

kind  expression  on  his  face,  and  then 
motioned  Mr.  Middlebrook  to  come 
away,  hoping  she  would  fall  asleep 
again.  But  this  time  she  was  thor- 
oughly awake.  They  had  mentioned 
that  word  debt — the  word  her  mother 
had  dreaded  so.  And  then  it  all  came 
back  to  her:  that  her  mother  was  dead, 
that  she  was  left  alone,  and  that — 

Suddenly  the  doctor  and  Mr.  Middle- 
brook  heard  a  low  sob.  They  both 
turned  hastily  toward  the  bed,  and  there 
lay  Del  with  her  face  turned  against  the 
pillow,  crying  very  piteously. 

''What  is  it,  dear?  Poor  little 
woman,  what  is  it?"  asked  the  doctor 
tenderly. 

'*I  want  my  mother,  oh!  I  want  my 
mother,"  wailed  Del.  Mr.  Middlebrook 
bent  over  her  and  laid  his  hand  upon 
her  head. 

'*My  little  girl,"  he  said,  and  his  voice 
was  very  deep  and  gentle,  ''My  little 
girl,  God  knows  we  would  give  you  your 
mother  if  we  could,  but  He  has  taken  her 
and  we  must  not  complain.  My  twins  at 
home — they  too  have  lost  their  mother 
and  are  lonely  without  her,  just  as  you 


BePs  Debt  2d 

are."  He  paused  a  moment  as  if  he 
could  not  go  on  because  of  something  in 
his  throat  that  choked  him.     "They — " 

Del  turned  her  head  toward  him  and 
slowly  raised  her  great,  sorrowful  eyes 
to  his.  "But  they  have  you,"  she 
whispered  very  slowly  and  with  a  wist- 
ful quiver  of  the  lip. 

"So  have  you,  dear,"  he  answered, 
leaning  down  to  kiss  her.  ' '  So  have  you, 
for  I  am  going  to  take  you  home  with 
me  to  be  my  own  little  daughter.  Will 
you  come?" 

She  put  up  her  hand  and  laid  it  against 
his  cheek. 

"I  love  you,"  she  said  simply,  for 
answer.  He  did  not  stir  from  her  side 
for  a  long  time,  but  sat  patiently  next 
her,  her  hand  in  his,  until  she  fell  asleep. 

Day  by  day  Del  grew  stronger,  and 
every  morning  Mr.  Middlebrook  came  to 
see  her,  until  she  grew  to  watch  for  his 
coming  as  she  watched  for  the  coming 
of  the  faithful  daylight.  Then,  when 
he  was  gone,  she  would  lie  for  a  long 
time  thinking  of  his  goodness  to  her  and 
of  how  she  loved  him,  and  feeling  that 
no  matter  how  lonesome  she  was   she 

.  3  —  DeVs  Debt 


30  Bel's  Debt 

must  never  tell  liim,  since  he  was  trying 
so  hard  to  fill  her  mother's  place  and 
was  going  to  take  her  home  to  be  a  sis- 
ter to  May  and  Margaret,  where  she 
would  be  happy  "for  ever  after,"  like 
the  good  people  in  the  fairy-tales.  She 
did  not  say  much  about  it,  for  she  was  a 
silent  little  thing,  but  she  thought  of  it 
all  day  long,  and  often  and  often  in  the 
night,  when  she  lay  awake,  she  would 
wonder  how  much  it  would  take  to  pay 
the  debt  she  owed  him — the  de])t  she  re- 
membered having  heard  Doctor  Emmet 
say  she  could  hardly  pay  in  a  lifetime. 

''Mamma  used  to  dread  debt  so,"  she 
mused  sadly.  ''She  said  that  it  was  the 
bitterest  thing,  and  she  warned  me  never, 
never  to  owe  anybody  anything.  Al- 
ways to  pay,  even  if  I  had  to  work  hard 
— hard.  She  had  to  work  hard  to  pay 
Aunt  Cornelia,  but  she  i)aid  her.  And 
she  paid  Mrs.  Halstead,  too,  only  she 
didn*t  know  it.  0,  if  those  bank  peo- 
ple only  hadn't  made  that  mistake;  if 
they  had  only  sent  the  money  on  right 
off!  But  it  came  at  last  and  then  Mrs. 
Jud  was  paid.  I  wonder  if  Mamma 
knows  and  is  glad.    It  seems  as  if  she 


Del's  Debt  31 

must.  Of  course  I  shall  owe  Mr.  Mid- 
dlebrook  lots  and  lots  of  money,  because 
Mrs.  Halstead  says  he  's  supporting  me 
now,  and  I'm  to  have  clothes  and  every- 
thing just  like  May's  and  Margaret's. 
Perhaps  I  oughtn't  to  let  him  do  it. 
Perhaps  if  Mammady  were  alive  she  'd 
think  I  could  never  earn  enough  to  pay 
him  back  even  if  I  learn  to  sing  beauti- 
fully and  can  earn  ever  so  much  money." 

At  last  she  thought  she  would  ease 
her  conscience  by  getting  Doctor  Em- 
met's advice  on  the  subject,  so  the  next 
time  he  came  to  see  her  she  said  hesi- 
tatingly: ''Doctor,  do  you  think  if 
Mamma  were  alive  she  'd  want  me  to  go 
to  Mr.  Middlebrook's?" 

''Why,  yes!  Bless  your  heart,  of 
course  she  would.  What  put  a  doubt  of 
it  into  your  head,  honey!" 

"0,  I  was  thinking  that  perhaps  I 
couldn't — perhaps  I  couldn't  ever — 
If  he  is  going  to  support  me  as  he  does 
May  and  Margaret  and  send  me  to 
school — and — all,  it  will  be  very  expen- 
sive and  perhaps  I  couldn't  ever — '* 
but  Del  found  it  was  not  so  easy  to  speak 


32  Del's  Del)t 

out  her  thoughts  and  so  she  gave  it  up  in 
despair  and  stopped. 

Doctor  Emmet  1  aughed.  ' '  Don 't  worry 
your  little  head  with  questions  of  this 
sort,"  he  said,  looking  immensely 
amused.  ^'I  guess  Mr.  Middlebrook  can 
manage  to  get  enough  money  together  to 
pay  for  your  board  and  keep,  you  small 
mouse.  But,"  and  here  his  voice  grew 
very  earnest  and  his  face  grave  and 
thoughtful,  ''Mr.  Middlebrook  is  going 
to  give  you  much  more  than  food  and 
clothing,  Del.  You  must  always  re- 
member that  and  never  forget  that  you 
owe  him  more  than — well,  you  know 
what  I  mean,  I  guess."  And  the  good 
doctor  pinched  her  chin  as  she  sat  look- 
ing up  at  hira  from  her  nest  of  pillows. 

She  did  not  know  at  all  what  he  meant, 
but  could  not  bring  herself  to  confess  it. 
She  would  owe  Mr.  Middlebrook  more 
than — well,  more  than  what?  She  pon- 
dered over  it  and  pondered  over  it,  and 
concluded  at  length  that  he  meant  she 
would  owe  Mr.  Middle])rook  more  than 
her  mother  had  owed  Mrs.  Jud.  Well, 
of  course.  She  knew  that  perfectly 
well.     But  some  day  she  would  try  to 


Del's  Debt  33 

pay  it  all  back.  And  in  the  meantime, 
if  she  were  extremely  careful  of  her 
clothes  and  tried  not  to  eat  very  much 
(only  she  was  so  ravenously  hungry 
nowadays)  perhaps  she  would  n't  be  such 
a  cruel  burden  after  all.  Anyway  she  'd 
try  to  be  as  little  trouble  as  possible  and 
help  with  the  housework  and  the  sewing 
as  her  mother  had  done  once  when  she 
was  in  Paris  studying  music  and  Aunt 
Cornelia  had  refused  to  send  her  any 
more  money  to  pay  for  her  singing 
lessons.  These  and  other  feverish 
thoughts  kept  her  brain  busy  for  many 
an  hour  when  she  shotild  have  been 
peacefully  asleep,  and  so  unconsciously 
delayed  her  recovery  that  Doctor  Emmet 
was  puzzled  and  dismayed  by  the  slow 
progress  she  made.  ''  I  can't  account 
for  it,"  he  confessed  to  Mr.  Middlebrook 
at  last.  "  She  ought  to  be  gaining 
strength  steadily  by  this  time,  but  she 
isn't.  Mrs.  Jud  says  she  eats  almost 
nothing,  and  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  her 
flushed  cheeks  and  the  pace  of  her  pulse. 
I  think  perhaps  we  might  as  well  have 
some  one  up  from  town  to  take  a  look 
at  her  and  talk  the  case  over  with  me. 


34  Del's  Debt 

What  do  you  say  to  calling  Doctor 
Bridgeway  to-morrow  unless — " 

What  her  father  said  to  calling  Doctor 
Bridgeway  to-morrow  unless — Marga- 
ret, who  had  chanced  to  be  within  ear- 
shot, did  not  wait  to  hear.  She  slipped 
quietly  and  quickly  away  and  burst  into 
May's  room  without  knocking. 

*'0  May,"  she  whispered  breathlessly, 
''it 's  perfectly  awful  about  Del.  She 
is  n't  getting  well  at  all.  Doctor  Emmet 
says  so,  and  he  's  worried  to  death,  and 
they  're  going  to  have  a  New  York  doc- 
tor up  to  see  her,  and  she  doesn't  eat 
anything  hardly,  and  what  under  the  sun 
are  we  going  to  do?" 

"Hush,  Marg!  Don't  be  a  silly.  I 
shouldn't  think  she  would  eat — the 
things  that  wriggle-nosed  Mrs.  Jud  cooks 
for  her.  I  'd  starve  first,  myself,  rather. 
It  's  made  me  cross  as  two  sticks  that 
Doctor  Emmet  wouldn't  let  us  go  see 
her.  And  I  made  up  my  mind  I 
wouldn't  ask  him  again,  but  when  I 
thought  best  I  'd  just — Come  here ! 
Bend  your  head  down  close  so  I  can 
whisper,  and  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  've 
planned  out  and  what  I  'm  going  to  do. 


Del's  Debt  35 

It  's  the  very  loveliest  scheme  you  ever 
heard  of,  and  I  '11  let  you  in  on  condition 
you  '11  not  breathe  a  word  to  a  living 
creature.  Promise!  Cross  your  heart 
and  hope  to  die!  There,  now,  listen!" 
For  fully  two  minutes  by  the  clock 
there  was  no  sound  in  the  room  except 
the  soft  "s-s-s-"  of  May's  smothered 
whispers,  but  at  the  end  of  that  time 
Margaret  raised  her  head,  turned  a  radi- 
ant face  to  her  twin,  and  rapturously 
clapped  her  hands. 


CHAPTER  III 

Del  counted  the  strokes  of  the  great 
bell  as  they  pealed  out  the  hour  from 
the  town-hall  clock-tower.  One — ^two — • 
three  —  four — five — six — seven  —  eight 
— nine — ten  —  eleven  —  tivelve!  Mid- 
day! Mrs.  Jud  and  Rhoda  were  down- 
stairs in  the  back  kitchen  eating  their 
dinner.  The  doctor  had  made  his 
morning  visit  long  ago  and  would 
not  return  until  evening.  And  in 
the  meantime  there  was  nothing  for 
Del    to    do    but    lie    patiently    among 


36  Del's  Debt 

her  pillows  and  try  to  drive  away  the 
troublesome  thoughts  that  she  dreaded 
so  because  they  made  her  temples  throb 
and  her  cheeks  grow  hot  and  dry.  If 
only  her  mother  were  here  to  smooth  her 
hair  and  soothe  away  the  disturbing  wor- 
ries! At  the  thought  Del's  cheeks  were 
not  dry  at  all,  but  they  were  hotter  than 
ever,  and  the  throbbing  in  her  temples 
was  growing  quicker  w4th  every  minute. 
She  meant  to  be  brave  and  obedient,  but 
she  couldn't  sleep,  as  the  doctor  advised, 
because  her  mind  was  so  busy  with 
thoughts  she  could  not  confide  to  any 
one.  She  grew  very  forlorn  and  home- 
sick sometimes  during  the  long  hours 
when  Mrs.  Jud  and  Rlioda  were  busy, 
and  away,  and  she  was  left  alone.  She 
wondered  why  the  twins  never  came  to 
see  her.  She  was  too  shy  to  ask  their 
father,  but  she  wondered  about  it,  and 
as  the  days  passed  by  and  still  they  did 
not  come,  she  concluded  it  was  because 
they  did  not  care  about  her.  It  would 
be  dreadful  if  they  did  not  like  her  and 
were  displeased  at  the  thought  of  having 
her  come  to  their  house  to  live!  0, 
dear!     She  had  never  thought  of  that 


Del's  Debt  37 

before!  But  if  it  were  really  true, 
what  in  the  world  should  she  do?  She 
couldn't  go  where  she  wasn't  wanted, 
and — 0  dear ! 

She  was  so  busy  hunting  for  her  hand- 
kerchief under  her  pillow  that  she  did 
not  see  the  door-knob  turn  noiselessly 
round,  nor  did  she  notice  the  familiar 
creak  of  the  hinge  as  the  door  swung 
gently  open.  But  when  it  closed  again 
very  softly  the  faint  shadow  of  it  hap- 
pened to  catch  her  eye:  she  looked  up 
quickly  and  there  stood  two  bright- 
haired,  rosy-faced  girls  silently  regard- 
ing her  from  the  threshold.  She  gave 
a  soft  little  exclamation  of  surprise  and 
pleasure,  for  she  knew  in  a  twinkling 
that  they  were  the  twins,  May  and  Mar- 
garet Middlebrook. 

''Sh!"  cautioned  one  of  them,  with 
her  finger  on  her  lip. 

''For  goodness'  sake  don't  make  any 
noise, ' '  pleaded  the  other.  ' '  We  're  the 
twins,  you  know,  and  we  've  stolen  in 
without  any  one's  knowing.  They 
would  n't  let  us  came  before,  and  for  the 
matter  of  that  they  wouldn't  now,  I 
s  'pose,  if  they  knew.     But,  well — ^we  just 


38  Del's  Debt 

have  come,  you  see.  I  'in  May  and  this 
is  my  sister,  Margaret.  And  you  are 
Del,  and  you  're  coming  to  live  with  us 
as  soon  as  you  're  well  enough  to  be 
moved.  Do  for  pity's  sake  hurry  up. 
It  must  be  horrid  dreary  down  here.  I 
don 't  s  'pose  you  have  a  soul  to  talk  with 
except  Mrs.  Jud  and  Rlioda." 

Del  shook  her  head  dumbly  and  tears 
of  weakness  sprang  to  her  eyes. 

''Poor  thing,"  purred  Margaret  in  a 
motherly  voice.  *'I  know  just  how  you 
feel.  I  think  getting  well  is  the  trouble- 
somest  part  of  being  sick.  You  feel  so 
abused  and  don't  exactly  know  why.  I 
had  the  measles  once." 

''I  shouldn't  wonder  a  mite  in  the 
world  but  you  're  hungry,"  declared 
May.  **I  told  Marg  this  morning  when 
the  doctor  came  to  see  Daddy  after  he  'd 
been  here,  that  I  bet — I  mean  I  was  al- 
most certain — ^you  were  hungry,  for  they 
never  give  sick  people  anything  but  milk 
and  what  I  call  Slip-go-down  and  Good- 
for-you  messes.  And  they  're  the  tire- 
somest  things.  I  'd  rather  starve  almost 
than  touch  'em.  And  so  Marg  and  I,  we 
just  went  spiering  round  the  pantry  at 


Del's  Debt  39 

home  and  found  a  few  little  odds  and 
ends  we  thought  you  might  like,  and 
sneaked  'em  in,  and  here  they  are  in  this 
basket,  and  now,  if  you  please,  we  're 
going  to  have  a  picnic!  We  three  to- 
gether ! " 

What  fun  it  was  to  watch  Del's  shin- 
ing, hungry  eyes  as  they  took  first  one 
good  thing  and  then  another  out  of  their 
basket  of  plenty.  The  twins  nudged 
each  other  delightedly  whenever  they 
could  dodge  her  devouring  glance,  which 
seemed  to  take  in  everything  at  once. 

"We  got  on  the  right  side  of  Hannah, 
our  cook,  and  she  baked  us  some  pota- 
toes, nice  and  soft,  because  I  remember 
they  always  give  'em  to  invalids  that 
way,"  explained  May  hurriedly.  ''We 
made  Lightfoot — he  's  our  pony,  you 
know — scamper  for  his  life  down  here, 
so  they  'd  be  good  and  hot,  and  they  are, 
see?  steaming!  And  this  is  some  roast 
chicken  and  here  are  some  soft-boiled 
eggs,  hot  too,  as  toast!  And  some 
calf 's-foot  jelly  and  some  bouillon  and 
— and^ — 0  never  mind,  we  '11  just  eat  as 
we  go  along,  and  not  mind  courses  and 
so  on.     The  most  important  thing  is  to 


40  Del's  Debt 

get  'em  down,  so  if  any  one  should  come 
uj)  they  'd  have  to  grin  and  bear  it." 

How  they  laughed  and  choked  and 
trembled  over  that  stolen  feast.  Del 
forgot  her  scruples  about  fasting  and 
fell  to  with  a  right  good  will.  She 
would  have  been  ashamed  of  her  appe- 
tite, but  the  twins  reassured  her  by  in- 
sisting that  it  made  them  perfectly  happy 
to  see  how  she  relished  everything,  and 
that  if  she  had  n't  they  'd  have  been  too 
disappointed  for  anything. 

''0  dear!"  Del  returned  with  a  rue- 
ful sigh,  as  she  looked  at  her  emptied 
plate.  ''I  think  I  could  almost  eat  the 
basket," 

' '  There !  T  knew  it !  I  knew  it ! "  de- 
clared May  triumphantly.  '^I  said  you 
were  famished,  didn't  I,  Marg?  But 
you  can't  eat  the  basket,  you  know,  be- 
cause we'll  need  it  again  for  the  next 
time.  0,  we  're  going  to  try  it  again, 
if  you  behave  like  a  lady  and  get  better 
good  and  quick." 

''Please,  May,"  interrupted  Margaret 
uneasily,  ''let  's  hustle  the  scraps  back 
so  we  can  get  rid  of  the  basket.  Every 
time  I  hear  a  sound  my  heart  almost 


Del's  Debt  41 

jumps  into  my  throat.  It  would  be  bad 
enough  if  any  one  found  us  here — but 
the  basket!" 

'*We  weren't  sure  we  could  slip  in 
with  the  basket  by  the  front  door,"  said 
May,  as  she  shuffled  the  dishes  together, 
"and  so  we  just  took  the  precaution  to 
bring  some  strong  twine.  I  'm  not 
going  to  risk  carrying  the  thing  down- 
stairs and  meeting  some  one  on  the  way. 
Discretion  is  the  better  part  of  valor. 
I  'm  simply  arranging  to  get  rid  of  it 
so-fashion.  Now,  cover  yourself  up 
warm,  Del.  Marg,  open  the  window! 
Is  n't  this  neat  ?  Help  me  lift  it  over  the 
window-sill.  Now  out!  There  it  goes! 
Slowly!  Slowly!  Stop  giggling,  Marg! 
If  you  make  me  laugh  I  '11  drop  it  or 
something.  Hurrah!  It  's  landed!  Safe 
and  sound  behind  the  lilac-bushes,  where 
no  one  'd  ever  in  the  world  spy  it.  Down 
with  the  window,  Marg.  That  's  right. 
Now,  Del,  lie  back  and  rest,  ma  'am, 
while  Sis  cuddles  your  head  and  I  read 
aloud  to  you.  I  brought '  Little  Women. ' 
You  've  probably  read  it,  but  it  's  just  as 
jolly  the  second  time." 

O,  but  it  was  delicious  to  lie  there  in 


42  Del's  Debt 

such  contentment  and  luxury,  after  her 
many  lonely  hours  of  disheartenment 
and  unsatisfied  craving  for  compan- 
ionship and  food.  After  a  while  the 
sootliing  touch  of  Margaret's  fingers 
on  her  forehead  and  the  lulling 
sound  of  May's  low  voice  in  her  ears 
made  her  so  drowsy  that  her  eyelids 
drew  together  in  spite  of  themselves  and, 
before  either  she  or  her  visitors  were 
aware,  she  had  fallen  into  a  deep,  restful 
sleep. 

The  two  conspirators  managed  to  get 
themselves  out  of  the  room  without  dis- 
turbing her,  but  it  was  only  after  they 
were  well  off  the  premises  and  on  their 
way  to  the  shelter  some  distance  be.yond 
where  they  had  tethered  Lightfoot,  that 
their  hearts  beat  regularly  once  more 
and  their  breath  came  unhindered. 

''Well,  now,"  began  May  as  soon  as 
they  were  well  settled  in  the  cart  and 
speeding  homeward  again,  ''I  call  that 
a  howling  success.  Everything  went  oif 
just  as  we  'd  arranged,  with  the  greatest 
neatness  and  dispatch." 

''Especially  the  food,"  laughed  Mar- 
garet.    "Did  you  ever  in  all  your  life 


Del's  Debt  43 

see  any  one  enjoy  things  so  much  as  Del 
did?" 

' '  She 's  pretty, ' '  announced  May.  ' '  At 
least,  she  would  be  if  she  were  n't  so  thin 
and  if  they  hadn't  cut  her  hair  all  off." 

''It  isn't  all  off.  It's  only  short. 
She  doesn't  say  much.  I  mean  not  so 
much  as  you — I  mean  as  tve  do,"  sug- 
gested Margaret  delicately. 

''All  the  better,"  May  declared. 
"It  '11  make  things  more  comfortable  all 
round  if  we  aren't  forever  interrupting 
one  another  and  talking  each  other  down. 
I  know  I  'm  chatty  and  I  don't  care;  so, 
if  you  please,  I  '11  be  orator,  you  can  be 
chorus,  and  she  can  be  audience.  I  don't 
see  why  that  wouldn't  work  to  a 
charm." 

"I  think  she  's  going  to  fit  in  beauti- 
fully," volunteered  Margaret  thought- 
fully. "I  like  her  ever  and  ever  so 
much. ' ' 

As  for  Del  herself —  When  she 
waked  at  last,  the  early  evening  shadows 
were  creeping  into  the  room  and  with 
them  Mrs.  Jud,  who  exclaimed  delight- 
edly over  her  patient's  splendid  nap. 

"Why,  you  slep'  an'  slep',  jus'  like 


44  Del's  Debt 

you  was  Rip  Van  Winkle,"  she  said.  ''I 
come  here  once  or  twice  and  Rhoda,  she 
poked  her  head  through  the  door  lots  of 
times,  but  you  kep'  right  on  and  never 
knew.  I  warrant  now,  you  feel  better. 
Say,  but  won't  the  doctor  be  pleased?" 

Pleased!  The  doctor  fairly  beamed 
with  satisfaction.  ''Well,  well,  little 
woman,  this  is  good  news ! "  he  exclaimed 
heartily,  coming  up  to  her  bedside  and 
taking  her  hand  in  his  to  pat  it  encour- 
agingly. ''Keep  this  up  and  you  '11  be 
on  your  feet  in  no  time.  Why,  do  you 
know,  I  was  beginning  to  feel  a  little — 
just  a  little  disappointed,  you  were  go- 
ing so  slowly.  And  I  'd  about  made  up 
my  mind  to  invite  a  friend  of  mine  up 
from  New  York  to  take  a  look  at  you  and 
discover  if,  between  us,  we  could  n't  urge 
you  on  a  little  faster.  Two  heads  are 
better  than  one,  sometimes,  but  now, 
dear  me!  Nothing  could  be  more  satis- 
factory than  this!" 

Del  smiled  brightly  up  at  him  and 
her  lips  twitched  a  little  with  hidden 
amusement  as  she  thought  ''Three  heads 
are  better  than  one — a  whole  lot  better. 


Del's  Debt  45 

if  he  only  knew  it.  But  of  course  I  can't 
tell  him  if  they  don't." 

**Yes,  indeed,"  continued  the  doctor, 
drawing  up  his  chair.  ''You  are  doing 
famously  and  there  's  no  reason,  if  you 
go  on  like  this,  why  you  shouldn't  be 
moved  up  the  hill  in  time  for  Thanks- 
giving. How  does  that  strike  you?  And 
—Hullo!    What  's  this?" 

For  a  second  Del's  heart  seemed  to 
stand  still,  for  tlie  doctor  had  picked  up 
from  the  floor — a  chicken  drum-stick 
which  May,  in  her  hurry,  had  overlooked, 
and  which  he  now  proceeded  to  examine 
through  his  spectacles  with  the  most 
puzzled,  perplexed  expression  possible. 
She  did  not  reply  to  his  exclamation  and 
he  continued  turning  the  bone  this  way 
and  that  in  his  tingers,  under  the  light  of 
the  kerosene  lamp. 

''A  chicken-leg!  Well,  I  wonder  how 
this  got  here !  I  suppose  you  don't  know 
anything  about  it,  eh  ? " 

Del  looked  down  at  the  counterpane 
and  said  nothing, 

''Mrs.  Jud  hasn't  been  giving  you 
chicken  to  eat,  has  she?" 

"Oh,  no  sir!    No  indeed!" 

4  —  DeVs  Debt 


46  DePs  Debt 

''Well  then,  I  wonder  how  in  the  world 
this  got  up  here.  I  did  n't  suppose  Mrs. 
Jud's  Minorcas  flew  as  high  as  the  sec- 
ond story,  or  would  be  accommodating 
enough  to  leave  one  of  their  drum-sticks 
behind.  They  don't  look  like  that  sort 
of  fowl.  Still,  I  presume,  one  must 
have — " 

He  was  watching  Del  very  narrowly 
from  under  his  bushy  brows  out  of  the 
corners  of  his  keen  eyes,  and  she  felt  his 
gaze  piercing  through  her,  though  she 
dared  not  look  up  and  meet  it. 

*'What  did  Mrs.  Jud  give  you  for  din- 
ner to-day?" 

''Broth." 

"That  all?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  May  Middlebrook — she  didn't 
happen  to  bring  you  anything  else,  did 
she?" 

Del's  quick  start  and  the  deep  flush 
that  overspread  her  face  convinced  the 
doctor  in  a  twinkling  that  the  shot  he 
had  aimed  at  a  venture  had  hit  the  bull's- 
eye. 

"0  well,  never  mind,"  he  said  kind- 
ly.    "I  won't  ask  embarrassing  ques- 


Del's  Debt  47 

tions.  Tliat  is,  we  '11  leave  names  out  of 
the  business  entirely.  Just  tell  me  what 
you  Ve  eaten  to-day.  Don't  omit  to  men- 
tion a  thing. ' ' 

About  ten  minutes  later  the  doctor  ; 
strode  down-stairs  and  out  of  the  house 
with  a  very  dark  scowl  drawing  his  eye- 
brows together.  Poor  Silvertail,  who 
had  turned  his  face  toward  home  with 
visions  of  a  warm  stall  and  oats  to  re- 
ward him  for  a  long  day's  jogging  over 
cold  country  hills,  found  himself  turned 
in  quite  another  direction  and  headed 
up  the  windy  road  which  led  to  the  Mid- 
dlebrook  place. 

Tlie  twins  were  waiting  for  their 
father,  as  usual,  in  the  great  hall-room, 
and  at  the  sound  of  wheels  they  sprang 
to  the  door  and,  in  spite  of  the  stinging 
wind,  flung  it  wide,  calling  cheerily  out 
into  the  dusk: 

"Hullo,  Daddy!  Come  right  in  as 
quick  as  you  can.  There's  a  roaring  fire 
and  dinner  's  almost  served." 

But  it  was  not  their  father's  voice  that 
sent  them  scurrying  back  into  the  house 
again,  trembling  with  something  beside 
the  cold. 


48  Del's  Debt 

'*Yes,  yes!  I  'm  not  your  Daddy,  but 
I  'm  coming  in  fast  enough,"  growled 
the  doctor's  gruff  voice.  ''Go  in  there 
directly,  you  two,  and  don't  catch  your 
deaths  of  pneumonia  and  make  bad  mat- 
ters worse.    Shut  the  door,  I  say!" 

The  twins  obeyed  him,  while  they 
gazed  into  each  other's  blank  faces  with 
frightened  eyes.  ''0  dear!"  shivered 
Margaret.  "His  voice  sounds  as  cross 
as  two  sticks.  You  don't  s'pose  he  's 
found  out!" 

May  shook  her  head  and  her  lips  set 
in  a  hard  line.  "He  could  n't  have  found 
out  unless  Del's  told,  and  if  she  has — " 

But  before  she  could  complete  her 
threat  the  door  was  flung  open  and  the 
doctor,  stern-mouthed  and  darkly  glow- 
ering, strode  into  the  room. 

"Well,  young  ladies,"  he  said  in  his 
blunt,  direct  way,  "I  've  come  to  pick  a 
bone  with  you.  A  chicken-bone,  I  might 
say,  if  it  had  n't  already  been  picked  as 
clean  as  a  whistle." 

Margaret's  face  paled  and  May 
squared  her  shoulders  defiantly.  They 
saw  at  once  that  the  worst  had  happened 
and  that,  in  some  way  or  other,  they  had 


Del's  Debt  49 

been  discovered.  But  neither  of  tliem 
spoke. 

''Well?"  demanded  the  doctor  grimly, 
"what  have  you  got  to  say  for  your- 
selves?" 

Margaret  unconsciously  cowered  be- 
hind her  twin's  shoulder,  but  May  stood 
up  stoutly  and  faced  the  doctor  with  a 
never-say-die  expression  in  her  eyes. 

''We  don't  know  yet,  sir,"  she  an- 
swered respectfully,  "what  you  want  of 
us.  But  we  '11  answer  any  question  you 
like  to  ask." 

"Oho!  you  will,  will  you?  Then, 
young  women,  kindly  inform  me,  here 
and  now,  who  authorized  you  to  go  and 
visit  my  patient  and  imperil  her  life  by 
giving  her  stuff  to  eat  that  in  her  con- 
dition is  virtually  poison?  Answer  me 
that,  if  you  please." 

' '  Imperil  her  life ! ' ' — ' '  Poison ! ' '  The 
words  went  through  the  twins'  hearts 
like  two-edged  knives^  and  they  were 
stunned  with  horror. 

"Well?"  The  doctor's  grim  voice 
shocked  them  back  into  consciousness  of 
him  again.    "Well?" 

"We     thought^ — I     thought,"     stam- 


50  Del's  Debt 

mered  May,  all  her  pretended  self-assur- 
ance deserting  lier  in  a  moment,  **I 
thought  she  needed  a  change — company, 
you  know.  And  she  seemed  to  grow  bet- 
ter every  minute  we  were  there.  And  I 
took  her  the  things  to  eat  because — you 
said  she  had  no  appetite,  and  I  thought 
I  'd  see  if  she  wouldn't  eat  what  we — 
I — brought  her,  and  she  did  and  liked 
them,  and  I  thought  they  would  n't  harm 
her — just  a  baked  potato  and  some 
chicken,  and  some  other  little  things,  you 
know,  and  it  was  all  my  fault — 1 
thought — " 

'  *  Baked  potato !  Great  Scott !  Baked 
potato  for  a  typhoid  patient!  You  think 
altogether  too  much,  young  lady,"  the 
doctor  broke  in  upon  her  sternly.  "In 
the  future,  I  'd  think  a  little  less,  if  I 
were  you,  and  leave  matters  of  import- 
ance to  people  that  know." 

May  shrank  together  at  the  cutting 
words,  but  found  courage  to  ask,  *'Is 
Del  much^ — much  worse?" 

The  doctor  coughed.  ''Perhaps  you 
aren't  aware  that  it  is  a  serious  offense 
to  interfere  with  a  physician's  authority 
in  a  sick-room.    If  anything  were  to  hap- 


DeFs  Debt  51 

pen  to  my  patient  now,  I  could  throw  the 
whole  responsibility  of  it  on  your  shoul- 
ders, or  I  could  refuse  to  continue  treat- 
ing the  case.    I  could — I  could — " 

''Is  Del  worse?"  demanded  May,  in- 
terrupting him  impatiently. 

The  doctor's  eyes  shot  out  a  strange, 
unexpected  light  from  under  their 
heavy,  overhanging  brows.  ''Well — 
er — "  he  began,  rather  lamely,  "that 
isn't  the  question.  I  want  you  to  re- 
alize—  " 

"Please,  it  is  the  question,"  insisted 
May.    ' '  I  want  to  know. ' ' 

Yes,  there  was  no  doubt  about  it,  the 
doctor's  eyes  were  twinkling — even  Mar- 
garet could  see  it  now. 

"She — she  isn't  what  you  might  call 
worse — that  is,  as  yet.  I  mean,  at  pres- 
ent," he  admitted  grudgingly. 

May  heaved  an  immense  sigh  of  relief. 
"Thank  goodness!"  she  exclaimed. 
"Now  I  '11  say  I  'm  sorry,  out-and-out 
sorry  I  've  displeased  you,  Doctor  Em- 
met. I  can't  say  I  didn't  know  you  'd 
be  mad  if  you  found  out.  But  I  took  the 
risk  because,  well — I  calculated  you 
wouldn't  find  out." 


52  Del's  Debt 

**You  're  not  much  of  a  mathemati- 
cian, I  see.  The  next  time  you  'calcu- 
late,' miss,  just  count  your  chances  a 
little  more  carefully." 

"How  did  you  find  out." 

The  doctor  grinned.  ''That  's  tell- 
ing." 

"Did  Del— " 

No  answer, 

"Well,  all  I  've  got  to  say  is,"  burst 
out  May  in  a  sudden  hot  fury,  "she's  a 
— I  won't  say  what  I  think  she  is.  But 
I  don't  care  if  she  does  come  here  to 
stay,  I  '11  never  speak  to  her  again  as 
long  as  I  live,  so  there!  I  thought — " 
but  the  bitter  words  choked  her  and  she 
could  not  go  on. 

"There  you  are,  at  it  again,"  inter- 
rupted Doctor  Emmet  quizzically. 
"Didn't  I  caution  you  a  moment  ago 
against  thinking  so  much?"  ^ 

"But  she  did  tell!  You — ^welf,  you 
did  n't  say  she  did  n't,  and — she  did  tell, 
didn't  she?" 

"I  haven't  said  so." 

"You  couldn't  have  found  out  imless 
she  did." 


DePs  Debt  53 

'^0,  couldn't  I?  Miss  Confident 
Sure?" 

''Howl" 

''That  's  telling  again.  But,  for  your 
satisfaction,  I  '11  admit  you  were  be- 
trayed ! ' ' 

«'0_who— " 

"Yourself." 

May  gave  a  great  start  of  amazement. 
"It — it  isn't  true,"  she  stammered. 
"You  're  just  trying  to  trick  me." 

' '  Indeed  I  'm  not, ' '  the  doctor  assured 
her,  all  the  severity  gone  from  his  voice. 
"AVhat  say  to  this! — and  this! — and 
this?  Exhibit  one  (as  the  lawyers  say) : 
Chicken-drumstick.  Exhibit  two:  Vol- 
ume of  'Little  Women,'  with  owner's 
name,  May  Middlebrook,  on  fly-leaf,  and 
exhibit  three:  Marked  handkerchief  be- 
tween the  leaves  of  'Little  Women'  as 
book-niark.  Found  drumstick  on  floor 
by  bedside.  Found  'Little  Women'  in 
arm-chair,  back  of  cushion.  Huh !  I  'd 
be  a  fool  if  I  could  n  't  fit  such  evidence 
as  this  together  and  make  it  spell  out 
the  truth,  young  woman,  and  I  don't  pre- 
tend to  be  a  Sherlock  Holmes,  either." 

Margaret  gave  way  to  a  quick  little 


54  Del's  Debt 

laugh  of  relief.  She  saw  by  the  doctor's 
face  that  the  worst  was  over,  and  that 
now  he  was  ready  to  shake  hands  and  be 
friends,  and  she  was  heartily  glad  that 
Del  had  not  proved  a  traitor.  But  it  had 
taken  an  immense  amount  of  courage 
to  stand  up  and  face  her  accuser's 
wrath  as  May  had  done.  /She  had 
braced  herself  to  meet  it  bravely,  but 
now  the  strain  of  that,  and  her  anx- 
iety for  Del  were  over,  she  felt  her- 
self giving  way  and  on  the  point  of 
showing  the  white  feather  to  the  doc- 
tor, who  had  evidently  been  playing  on 
her  fears  and  ridiculing  her  all  the  time 
for  his  own  amusement.  For  a  second 
she  felt  a  boiling-up  of  all  sorts  of  ^pas- 
sions in  her  heart,  which  rose  to  her 
throat  and  stifled  her.  Then  she  turned 
her  fierce,  glowing  eyes  upon  fte  doctor, 
opened  her  white  lips  as  if  to  speik,  shut 
them  again  with  a  snap,  and,  "rorning 
quickly  on  her  he^lj^.bolted  un-stairs, 
trembling,  sobbing,  and  stumblmg  in  a 
frenzy  of  remorse,  shame,  and  i^|ient- 
ment. 


Del's  Debt  55 


CHAPTER  IV 

Doctor  Emmet  gazed  at  Margaret  for 
a  moment  with  a  face  absurdly  blank 
and  bewildered.  Then  he  deliberately 
puckered  his  lips  and  gave  a  long,  low 
whistle. 

*'Phew!  I  didn't  suspect  I  was  med- 
dling with  a  live  volcano.  Well,  well, 
live  and  learn!  I  've  known  that  child 
from  her  birth  and  never  so  much  as 
suspected  she  was  such  a  young  Vesu- 
vius. Does  she  often  have  such  erup- 
tions, eh?" 

*'No,  indeed,"  Margaret  hastened  to 
assure  him.  ''She  very,  very  rarely 
does.  But  you  see,  she — she  can't  stand 
being  made  fun  of.  It  simply  sets  her 
crazy.  And  first-off  you  scared  her  aw- 
fully about  Del,  and  then,  when  she  found 
out  it  was  all  a  trick — " 

*  *  But  it  was  n't  all  a  trick, ' '  the  doctor 
interrupted,  ''She  scared  me  worse 
about  Del  than  I  scared  her.  I  only  paid 
her  back  in  her  own  coin.  Gave  her 
scare  for  scare.  If  she  's  fair-minded 
and  just  she  oughtn't  to  complain.    In 


56  Del's  Debt 

fact,  I  have  the  more  cause  to  find  fault, 
for  7ny  scare  is  n't  over  yet.  I  can't  tell 
even  now  whether  that  stuff  she  fed  Del 
is  going  to  play  the  mischief  with  her 
or  not.  It  may — I  don't  know.  I  Ve 
left  word  with  Mrs.  Jud  to  watch  her 
carefully,  and  if  there  's  any  change  for 
the  worse,  no  matter  how  slight,  to  send 
for  me  at  once,  even  if  it  's  two  o'clock 
to-night. ' ' 

The  sound  of  wheels  on  the  gravel 
driveway  outside  brought  them  both  to 
their  feet  in  an  instant. 

*'It  's  Daddy,"  said  Margaret,  run- 
ning to  the  door  and  pulling  it  open  wide. 
But  Doctor  Emmet  had  a  hand  on  her 
shoulder  in  a  twinkling.  ''March  back 
there  to  the  fire,  child,  double-quick!" 
he  commanded.  ''It  's  as  cold  as  Green- 
land outside  and  this  draught  is  enough 
to  freeze  the  marrow  in  your  bones. 
Hullo !  Mr.  Middlebrook,  glad  to  see  you ! 
I  've  been  trying  to  keep  your  young- 
sters here  from  putting  themselves  in 
cold  storage  on  your  account." 

The  great  door  was  closed  with  a 
clang,  and  the  next  moment  Margaret's 
arms  were  about  her  father's  neck. 


Del's  Debt  57 

''Where  's  Maisie?"  lie  asked  as  soon 
as  he  could  find  breath. 

*'Up-stairs.  She  '11  be  down  in  a  min- 
ute. I  '11  go  and  bring  her. ' '  And  Mar- 
garet slipped  away  to  find  and  comfort 
her  twin,  while  the  two  men  stretched 
their  hands  to  the  blazing  fire  and  the 
doctor  in  a  low  voice  made  his  friend 
understand  the  affair  of  the  afternoon 
and  its  recent  consequences. 

''And  the  dickens  of  it  is,"  he  ex- 
claimed at  last-  in  a  whisper  full  of 
amusement,  "that  that  young  witch  of 
yours  up-stairs  seems  to  have  struck  the 
nail  on  the  head  with  her  outrageous 
treatment.  Del  is  like  another  girl.  I 
couldn't  have  believed  it.  Of  course  it 
was  an  abominable  risk  and  might  have 
cost  the  child  her  life,  but  as  it  happens 
it  seems  to  be  agreeing  with  her.  I  came 
here  to  give  Miss  May  the  punishment 
she  deserves  for  meddling  in  my  private 
and  particular  business  and,  bless  me! 
if  she  doesn't  face  the  music  like  a 
young  soldier,  courageous  as  an  Indian ! 
and  then,  when  it  's  all  over,  lo  and  be- 
hold! she  turns  on  me,  splutters  a  min- 
ute like  a  foolish  candle,  and  then  lights 


58  Bel's  Debt 

out  in  a  flash,  leaving  me  here  in  the 
dark  as  to  the  why  and  wherefore,  and 
feeling  like  the  greatest  brute  on  earth, 
and  as  if  I  had  done  the  wrong  and  not 
she  at  all." 

Mr.  Middlebrook  laughed.  ''Never 
mind,  doctor,"  he  said  consolingly. 
''May's  a  quick-tempered  little  creature, 
but  she  doesn't  bear  malice.  She'll  be 
down  in  a  very  short  time,  unless  I  'm 
much  mistaken,  to  say  she  's  sorry  and 
that  she  '11  never  do  so  any  more.  And 
when  she  says  so,  it  's  the  truth." 

His  words  were  hardly  spoken  when 
there  was  a  faint  stir  at  the  head  of  the 
staircase,  and  the  next  moment  the  twins 
appeared  slowly  making  their  way  back 
to  the  hall-room  again. 

"I  'm  sorry.  Doctor  Emmet,"  con- 
fessed May  staunchly,  coming  directly  to 
the  doctor  and  putting  out  her  hand. 
"I  'm  sorry  I  behaved  so.  I  was  all 
wrong  and — I  'm  sorry." 

"Why,  child,"  stammered  the  doctor 
reddening,  "the  fact  is,  I  'm  sorry  my- 
self. It  was  rather  a  shabby  trick  to 
hector  you  so,  and  I  'm  ashamed  of  my- 
self for  doing  it.    But  really,  you  under- 


Del's  Debt  59 

stand,  the  case  was  serious  and  outsiders 
must  never  interfere  in  sick-room  af- 
fairs. You  see  how  it  is,  don't  you? 
Now  let 's  shake  hands  and  be  friends 
again ! ' ' 

*'But  tell  me,"  persisted  May,  ''have 
I  done  Del  harm  1  Margie  says  you  think 
she  may  get  sicker  in  the  night." 

"I  hope  not,  but  of  course  one  can't 
tell." 

"Well,  what  I  want  to  do  is  this:  If 
you'll  let  me,  I  want  to  go  to  Mrs.  Jud's 
to-night  and  stay  there  and  watch  so  if 
Del  gets  worse  I  can  run  for  you  right 
straight  off.  Mrs.  Jud  takes  naplets  all 
through  the  night,  and  she  mightn't 
wake  up  in  time,  and  Rhoda  's  so  slow 
she  could  never  get  ready  quick  enough. 
Please,  please  let  me.  It  '11  make  me  feel 
ever  and  ever  so  much  better,  and  I  '11 
promise  faithfully  not  to  whisper  a  word 
to  Del,  or  even  let  her  know  I  'm  there." 

The  physician  and  Mr.  Middlebrook 
regarded  each  other  in  silence  for  a 
minute  after  May  had  finished,  and  then 
at  a  sign  from  her  father  Doctor  Emmet 
said:  "Well,  have  it  your  own  way.  If 
your  father  's  willing  I  am.    You  '11  find 


60  Del's  Debt 

before  you  're  through,  it  's  a  pretty 
tough  penance,  but  you  have  grit  enough 
for  anything,  and  I  '11  tell  you  this  for 
your  comfort,  that  if  Del  is  as  well  in 
the  morning  as  she  was  when  I  left  her 
an  hour  ago  I  make  you  free  of  her 
room,  to  come  and  go  as  you  please,  and 
she  can  be  brought  home  here  within  a 
week. ' ' 

May's  eyes  sparkled  with  satisfaction 
and  Margaret  clapped  her  hands.  It  was 
a  jolly  dinner  they  had  soon  after,  for 
the  doctor  consented  to  stay  and  eat  it 
with  them,  and  he  was  in  the  merriest 
of  moods.  As  soon  as  the  meal  was  over 
May  flew  up-stairs,  packed  a  little  hand- 
satchel  with  necessaries,  bundled  up  coz- 
ily  in  flannels  and  furs,  and  presented 
herself  before  the  doctor  ready  to  be  es- 
corted to  Mrs.  Jud's  on  her  first  errand 
as  night-nurse. 

It  was  altogether  a  novel  experience  to 
be  out  at  night  in  the  doctor's  buggj'^,  to 
see  the  frosty  stars  shining  clear  and 
cold  above  her,  and  to  hear  the  whine  of 
the  snow  under  the  weight  of  the  turn- 
ing wheels.  A  lighted  lantern  hung  be- 
neath the  body  of  the  carriage,  and,  as 


Del's  Debt  61 

the  wheels  revolved,  caused  great,  shad- 
owy phantom  spokes  to  circle  beside 
them  on  the  hard  snow  of  the  roadside. 

The  little  ''Jud  Halstead  house" 
looked  dark  and  forbidding  in  the  gloom. 
Except  for  a  faint  glimmer  that  strug- 
gled weakly  from  the  fanlight  above  the 
entry-door  it  was  as  black  as  pitch. 

*  *  Mrs.  Jud  believes  in  the  early-to-bed- 
and-early-to-rise  maxim,"  replied  the 
doctor  drily  as  he  lifted  May  from  the 
buggy. 

"If  they're  asleep  are  we  going  to 
wake  them  up?"  she  enquired,  a  dim 
sort  of  hope  that  he  would  say  "No"  as- 
sisting her  to  speak  more  cheerfully  than 
she  felt. 

"0  yes.  They  can't  have  done  much 
more  than  get  into  bed.  They  know  my 
knock:  it  will  bring  them  down  double- 
quick,  you  '11  see." 

May's  heart  sank  sickeningly  as,  sure 
enough,  the  sound  of  steps  on  the  stairs 
was  heard  from  within. 

"That  you.  Doctor!"  asked  Mrs. 
Jud's  timid  voice  through  the  keyhole. 

* '  Yes, ma  'am, ' '  Doctor  Emmet  prompt- 

5  —  Del's  Debt 


62  Del's  Debt 

ly  replied.  ''And  I've  got  a  night-nurse 
with  rae." 

" A  night-nurse !  Do  tell!"  Mrs.  Jud 
exclaimed  as  she  carefully  unlocked  and 
unbolted  the  frail  front  door  that  Doctar 
Emmet  or  any  other  strong  man  could 
have  broken  open  with  a  couple  of  heavy 
blows  of  his  powerful  fist. 

"Do  tell,"  repeated  she  when  the  door 
was  fairly  open. 

"Certainly,  ma'am,  that  's  precisely 
what  I  intend  to  do  if  you  '11  give  me  the 
chance,"  growled  the  doctor.  "This 
young  lady  is  going  to  relieve  you  to- 
night. Kindly  see  she  's  made  as  com- 
fortable as  possible.  Get  a  glass  of  milk 
for  her  so  she  can  drink  it  towards  morn- 
ing if  she  's  hungry,  and  explain  her 
duties  as  carefully  as  you  can,  so  she 
won't  misunderstand,  though  I  hope 
there  won't  be  anything  to  do  except 
sleep  with  one  eye  open  in  case  of  a 
change.    By  the  way,  how  is  Del  now?" 

' '  Fine !  Fine !  She  dropped  off  to  sleep 
as  soon  as  she  'd  had  her  supper,  and 
she  ain't  waked  up  to  know  a  thing 
since. ' ' 

"Good!  Well,  up-stairs  with  you  now, 


Del's  Debt  63 

nurse,  and  let  's  find  you  bright  and 
hearty  in  the  morning. ' ' 

May  felt  a  dismal  tightening  of  her 
throat  as  the  doctor  closed  the  door  upon 
himself  and  she  was  left  alone  with  Mrs. 
Jud  in  the  cramped,  close-smelling  little 
entry-way.  She  had  not  dreamed  that 
she  could  possibly  be  homesick,  but 
somehow  as  she  made  her  way  slowly 
up-stairs  she  felt  so  suffocated  and  for- 
lorn that  she  had  all  she  could  do  to 
keep  from  flying  back  to  the  door  and 
begging  Doctor  Emmet  to  take  her  home 
again. 

"You  walk  's  if  your  satchel  was  some 
heavy,"  whispered  Mrs.  Jud  just  behind 
her.    ''Want  I  should  carry  it  up?" 

'*0  no,  thank  you.  It  's  quite  light. 
The  stairs  creak  so  I  was  afraid  they 
might  wake  Del," 

' '  0  she  's  good  for  all  night,  I  guess. 
Besides,  she  's  used  to  'em.  Now  all 
you  '11  have  to  do  is  cuddle  right  down 
on  the  lunge  there  and  make  yourself 
comfort 'ble.  If  she  should  wake  up  you 
can  give  her  a  teaspoonful  of  this  and 
warm  her  a  cup  of  milk  on  the  oil-stove. 
You  light  it  this  way,  see !    Turn  up  the 


64  Del's  Debt 

wick  some  and  touch  a  match  here!  Now 
then,  anything  else  I  can  do  for  you?" 

**0  no,  indeed!"  May  cried  eagerly. 
She  shrank  from  Mrs.  Jud  in  her  dingy 
wrapper  and  longed  to  be  alone  so  she 
could  fight  off  this  awful  nightmare  of 
homesickness  by  herself.  It  seemed  to 
her  the  dismalness  of  the  place  would 
choke  her;  that  the  musty,  mildewy  air 
had  stuck  in  her  throat. 

''I  hate  it!  I  hate  it!  I  hate  it!"  she 
felt  like  shrieking  aloud.  But  of  course 
she  did  no  such  thing.  Instead,  she 
slipped  off  her  wraps  and  laid  them 
across  a  wooden  chair  very  deliberately. 
She  had  planned  to  undress  and  slip  on 
her  loose  flannel  bath-robe  and  woolen 
slippers,  but  she  changed  her  mind  as  she 
looked  at  the  lounge  Mrs.  Jud  had  ad- 
vised her  to  ''cuddle  right  down  on." 
The  confusion  of  shawls  and  blankets 
on  it  showed  too  plainly  that  Mrs.  Jud 
had  recently  been  doing  that  very  thing 
herself. 

*'No,  I  won't  take  off  a  single  thing," 
thought  May  determinedly.  "I  '11  sit  up 
straight  as  a  poker  in  this  chair  and  grit 


Pel's  Debt  65 

my  teeth  and  bear  it.  It  can't  last  for- 
ever, and  to-morrow  morning — " 

The  very  thought  of  the  sunshine  and 
fresh  air  and  home  made  her  more  heart- 
sick than  ever,  and  she  looked  about  the 
room  with  a  disgust  that  she  took  a  grim 
satisfaction  in  giving  way  to.  ''Nasty, 
smelly  old  matting, ' '  she  said  with  a  dis- 
dainful curl  of  her  lip,  and  as  if  she 
were  taking  delight  in  insulting  it. 
''Horrid,  ugly  wall-paper!  I  'd  like  to 
throw  sticks  at  every  one  of  those  awful 
pictures.  And  the  furniture !  0  me ! 
would  n't  I  just  love  to  hammer  it.  0, 1 
hate  this  place,  I  hate  it !    I  hate  it ! '  * 

The  kitchen  clock  down-stairs  broke 
through  the  stillness  with  ten  loud,  quick 
strokes,  as  if  it  were  in  a  hurry  to  be 
done  with  the  nonsense  and  go  back 
again  to  its  regular  business  of  hoarsely 
ticking  out  the  seconds. 

"0,  'Suffering  Sarah,'  as  Leonard 
Van  Ness  says,  is  that  all  it  is,  ten 
o'clock?"  sighed  the  doleful  night-nurse 
petulantly.  ' '  I  thought  it  was  twelve  at 
least.  If  I  had  to  stay  here  more  nights 
than  this  I  'd— " 

Suddenly  a  quite  new  thought  popped 


66  Del's  Debt 

into  her  brain,  and  though  she  shook  her 
head  violently  as  Lightfoot  did  when  the 
flies  troubled  him,  she  could  not  seem  to 
get  rid  of  the  buzzing  thing. 

''Del  has  had  to  stay  here  night  after 
night  and  day  after  day,"  it  repeated 
persistently.  ''Night  after  night  and 
day  after  day."  Somehow  it  kept  on 
and  on,  and  May  seemed  to  see  more 
clearly  every  minute  how  desolate  Del 
must  have  been.  It  had  never  really 
come  home  to  her  before.  It  took  the 
dingy,  ill-smelling  matting,  the  abomi- 
nable wall-paper,  the  absurd  pictures, 
and  the  sight  of  Mrs.  Jud  herself  in  her 
mussy  wrapper  to  convince  her  of  the 
pitiful  fate  from  which  she  had  helped 
to  rescue  Del. 

Though  May  was  the  freer-and-easier 
mannered  of  the  twins,  she  was  the  more 
fastidious  by  nature,  and  the  delicate 
way  in  which  she  had  been  brought  up 
made  her  especially  sensitive  to  any- 
thing that  was  not  scrupulously  neat  and 
clean.  Her  present  surroundings  re- 
pelled her  so  that  she  felt  fairly  sick 
with  disgust,  and  she  shrank  away  shud- 
dering from  the  touch  and  feel  of  even 


Del's  Debt  67 

the  plain  pine  chair  upon  which  she  had 
stiffly  planted  herself.  Somehow  it  had 
all  not  seemed  quite  so  repulsive  in  the 
daylight,  but  now  at  night,  with  the  kero- 
sene lamp  giving  out  a  rank  odor,  and 
the  shadows  crowding  thick  and  threat- 
ening in  the  corners,  it  seemed  fairly  un- 
bearable. She  wondered  if  Del  felt  as 
she  did.  If  so,  the  news  that  she  was  to 
be  taken  out  of  it  must  have  seemed  like 
a  message  straight  from  heaven. 

'^0,  I  'm  glad,  glad,  glad  I  said  she 
could  come,"  exulted  May  to  herself. 
''How  perfectly  awful  it  would  have 
been  if  Marg  and  I  had  n't  been  willing ! 
We  never  would  have  known  what  we 
were  doing.  0, 1  'm  glad,  glad,  glad  we 
did  the  right  thing." 

It  seemed  as  if  the  thought  brought 
her  new  courage  and  made  her  less  im- 
patient of  the  mean  place.  Del  slept  on 
quietly  and  serenely,  undisturbed  by 
Mrs.  Jud,  in  the  next  room,  who  snored 
uproariously  and  ended  off  every  snore 
with  a  long,  low  whistle  which  May  could 
hear  distinctly  through  the  thin  parti- 
tion-wall and  which  sent  her  into  convul- 
sions of  silent  laughter  in  spite  of  her- 


68  Del's  Debt 

self.  Tlie  kitchen  clock  struck  eleven 
and  then  twelve.  May's  back  began  to 
ache  dully  and  her  feet  grew  heavy  and 
cold.  She  would  have  given  worlds  if 
she  had  been  able  to  bring  herself  to 
''cuddle  right  down"  on  the  lounge.  She 
drew  her  feet  up  beneath  her  and  squat- 
ted on  them  uncomfortably,  trying  to 
keep  them  warm  beneath  the  cover  of 
her  skirts.  It  was  not  a  very  successful 
arrangement,  but  she  almost  fell  asleep 
notwithstanding,  and  roused  herself  just 
in  time  to  keep  from  lurching  forward 
on  the  floor.  At  last  she  could  endure 
the  drowsiness  and  chill  no  longer.  She 
got  up  and  took  her  flannel  gown  and 
woolen  slippers  out  of  the  satchel  and 
slipped  them  on  over  her  other  things. 
Then  she  drew  up  another  chair  and  set 
it  facing  her,  so  she  could  put  her  feet 
on  it.  She  had  hardly  done  more  than 
get  herself  settled,  as  she  thought,  when 
she  was  startled  wide  awake  by  the 
sound  of  the  kitchen  clock  striking  six 
in  its  sharp,  hurried  way.  At  the  same 
moment  she  heard  a  stealthy  foot  on  the 
door-sill. 

''Land  o'  the  living,  child!"  exclaimed 


Del's  Debt  69 

Mrs.  Jud  in  a  hoarse  whisper.  "You 
don't  mean  to  say-  you  ben  settin'  up 
like  that  all  night.  It 's  like  to  kill  you. 
I  'm  goin'  down  to  get  the  kitchen  fire 
started.  Don't  you  want  I  should  get 
you  some  hot  milk  or  somethin'?" 

''0  no,  thank  you.  No,  indeed,"  May 
feverishly  whispered  back,  her  teeth 
chattering  with  cold  and  faintness.  "I 
— I  '11  just  slip  out  now  and  run  home  as 
fast  as  I  can.  I — I  have  something  there 
I  've  got  to  see  to  right  away. ' ' 

Mrs.  Jud,  poor  woman,  was  dismayed, 
but  she  saw  she  could  make  nothing  by 
urging,  and  so  she  took  herself  down  the 
creaking  stairs  without  more  ado,  and 
began  to  get  breakfast  ready  and  set  the 
household  machinery  in  motion  for  the 
day. 

May  was  struggling  painfully  into  her 
fur  sack  and  almost  groaning  aloud  from 
the  ache  in  her  stiff  back  when  a  faint, 
astonished  voice  from  the  bed  made  her 
wheel  about  with  a  start. 

**Why — ee!  How  under  the  sun  did 
you  get  here,  I  should  like  to  know!" 

May  giggled  delightedly.  ''I  've  been 
here  all  night,"  she  explained  wheezily. 


70  Del's  Debt 

**  Playing  night-nurse.  But  you  slept 
like  a  top  and  didn't  need  a  thing,  and 
now  we  can  come  and  see  you  whenever 
we  want  to,  and  if  you  go  on  getting 
better  like  this  you  can  come  home  for 
Thanksgiving. ' ' 

It  paid  and  paid  again  for  all  the  dis- 
comfort of  the  night  to  hear  the  note  of 
joy  in  Del's  voice  as  she  cried  out : 

'  *  0,  May,  not  really  ?  Not  really,  truly, 
honest-sure?    Home?" 

**Yes,  as  true  's  you  live.  The  doctor 
himself  said  so  last  night.  He  said  if 
our  picnic  yesterday  didn't  harm  you 
we  could  come  and  see  you  whenever  we 
choose,  and  that  in  a  week  you  can  be 
brought  home." 

''Come  here  a  minute,  May,  will  you 
please,"  whispered  Del  shyly,  and  when 
May  came  she  put  up  her  hands,  drew 
her  face  down  to  her  own  and  kissed  her 
softly  on  the  cheek.  "0,  I  'm  glad," 
she  said. 

If  anything  could  have  warmed  May 
at  that  moment,  Del's  kiss  would  have 
done  it.  As  it  was,  it  sent  a  happy  glow 
to  her  heart  and  made  her  glad  in  spite 
of  everything  as   she  dragged  herself 


Del's  Debt  71 

home  through  the  harsh,  penetrating 
cold  of  the  rough  November  morning, 
shivering  and  quivering  with  inward 
chills. 

''Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Doctor  Em- 
met, later  in  the  day.  ''Why,  in  the 
name  of  common  sense,  didn't  you  wait 
for  me  to  bring  you  home  in  the  bugg>^  ? 
And  who  would  ever  have  supposed 
you  'd  catch  a  heavy  cold  like  this,  even 
if  Mrs.  Jud's  house  is  a  little  draughty? 
I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Mr.  Middlebrook, 
these  girls  are  lots  more  trouble  than 
they  're  worth,  lots ! ' ' 

But  it  was  only  to  her  "bosom-twin" 
that  May  could  explain  why  and  how  it 
had  all  happened.  "I  could  n't  have  eat- 
en a  mouthful  there  if  I  had  been  starv- 
ing," she  confessed  shamefacedly.  "And 
I  simply  couldn't  wait  to  get  home.  I 
know  it  was  silly  and  I  'm  ashamed  to  be 
so  fussy.  But — I  'm  'proper  glad,'  as 
Mrs.  Jud  says,  I  'm  back  again.  I  was  a 
goose  and  I  'm  being  paid  for  it,  but — 
I  tell  you — I  'm  glad  we  said  we  'd  have 
Del  here — now  that  I  know." 


72  Del's  Debt 


CHAPTER  V 

The  following  days  were  liappy  ones 
for  Del,  in  spite  of  the  sorrow  she  still 
felt  for  the  loss  of  her  mother. 
Every  morning  Mr.  Middlebrook  came 
to  see  her  on  his  way  to  the 
train,  and  during  the  day  Margaret  and 
Sally  Emmet  and  Clare  Van  Ness 
were  sure  to  make  their  appearance 
with  games  and  books  and  blossoms 
for  the  invalid,  till  her  bare  little 
room  was  turned  into  a  bower  and  she 
sat  in  her  pillowed  chair  in  the  midst  of 
it  all  like  a  small  princess  upon  her 
throne,  her  loyal  subjects  reading  aloud 
to  her  or  gossiping  harmlessly  away 
about  everything  under  the  sun. 

Poor  May,  kept  prisoner  at  home  by 
her  cold,  could  have  cried  with  vexation 
and  disappointment  because  all  her  line 
plans  had  to  be  carried  out  by  proxy. 
Sbe  had  set  her  heart  on  sharing  in  the 
fun,  and  it  was  "cold  comfort"  as  Leon- 
ard said,  to  have  to  content  herself  with 
Margaret's  reports,  lively  as  they  were. 

But  at  last  came  the  morning  of  the 


Del's  Debt  73 

great  day — the  day  on  which  Del  was  to 
be  taken  home.  She  had  looked  forward 
to  it  with  such  longing  that  all  the  night 
before  she  had  been  excited  and  restless, 
lying  awake  for  weary  stretches,  listen- 
ing to  the  wind  and  wondering  if  it  were 
snowing,  or  if  the  stars  were  out,  and 
hoping  that  a  storm  wasn't  brewing  to 
prevent  her  happiness,  for  Doctor  Em- 
met had  said  she  could  be  moved  only  if 
the  day  were  very  fine,  and  the  sun  shin- 
ing warm  and  clear.  Then,  just  at  high 
noon,  she  might  be  carried  down-stairs 
and  then —  She  clapped  her  hands  in 
the  darkness  as  she  thought  of  what 
would  happen  ''then."  But  the  next 
moment  came  the  thought  that  if  it 
stormed  she  might  have  to  wait  through 
another  long  day  and  night,  and  perhaps 
another  and  another. 

''0  dear!"  she  sighed.  ''What  shall 
I  do  if  it  is  n't  fair?  Since  I  've  known 
I  was  going  home  it  hasn't  seemed  as 
if  I  could  make  up  my  mind  to  stay  here 
any  longer.  I  'm  so  tired  of  it.  But  I 
know  one  thing !  Mother  always  told  me 
not  to  fret,  and  so  I  'm  going  to  try  not 
to,    I  '11  just  lie  here  as  still  as  ever  I 


74  DePs  Debt 

can,  and  see  if  I  can't  fall  asleep.  When 
I  was  a  little  thing  Mammady  used  some- 
times to  sing  me  to  sleep.  I  wonder  if 
I  could  sing  myself  to  sleep.  I  'm  going 
to  try." 

And  then  and  there  floated  out  in  the 
darkness  and  quiet  the  notes  of  a  quaint 
little  slumber-song,  sung  in  the  sweetest 
voice  imaginable,  though  not  the  strong- 
est by  any  means. 

Go  to  sleep,  daisy,  shut  up  your   eye! 
Stars  are  a-shining  clear  in  the  sky. 
Moon  is  a-watching  you  from  afar, 
Thinks  you  're  a  dreaming  little  earth-star. 

Dear  little  firefly,  put  out  your  light. 
Folks  are  a-dreaming  this  time  o'  night: 
Baby  is  wandering  in   Slumbertown, 
Will  not  come  back  until  sunbeams  slip  down. 

If  Del  could  have  known  what  that 
voice  was  to  do  for  her  in  after  days! 
But  she  only  knew  that  by  and  by  the 
melody  seemed  to  be  determined  to  stop 
before  it  came  to  the  end  of  the  verse, 
and  the  words  seemed  to  get  strangely 
mixed,  and  her  voice  seemed  to  be  float- 
ing away  from  her,  and  then — 

She  opened  her  eyes  suddenly  to  see 
the  sun  struggling  into  the  little  east 


Del's  Debt  75 

window,  and  then  she  knew  it  was  well 
on  in  the  morning,  and  that  Mrs.  Hal- 
stead  was  tip-toeing  heavily  about  tlie 
room,  ''rightenin'  up  a  bit"  and  putting 
something  into  the  trunk  that  stood  open 
against  the  wall. 

''My  sakes!"  she  exclaimed  as  Del 
sat  up  and  looked  round  with  sparkling 
eyes.  ''Ain't  you  feelin'  fine  though! 
D'  you  know  what  time  it  is?  Nine 
o'clock,  just  think  o'  that!  Rhoda  an' 
me's  ben  in  an'  out  o'  here  a  dozen  times 
and  you  never  's  much  as  winked  a  lash. 
Guess  you  're  goin'  to  pick  up  fast  now. 
Say,  d'  you  think  you  '11  ever  come  an' 
see  us  again  after  you  get  to  Middle- 
brook's  an'  are  well  again?  Like 
enough  you  '11  forget  all  about  us.  An' 
yet,  after  all,  I  don't  believe  you  will." 

Del  gazed  at  her  with  eyes  full  of  won- 
der. 

"Forget  you?  Not  come  to  see  you! 
Why,  how  funny  to  think  I  could  do  that, 
Mrs.  Halstead,  when  you  've  been  kind 
to  me!" 

"0,  that  would  n't  make  no  gret  differ- 
ence with  some  folks,"  returned  Mrs. 
Jud  promptly.    ' '  Some  folks  can  forget 


70  Del's  Debt 

kindness  as  quick  'n  easy  as  they  c'n 
wink.  But  I  guess  you  ain't  that  kind. 
I  guess  you  're  like  your  mother — the  re- 
memberin'  sort.  Say,  don't  you  want  I 
should  dress  you  as  soon  's  you  've  had 
your  breakfast?  Here  's  E-hoda  with  it 
now  and  the  fire  i^  burnin'  real  bright 
an '  cheerful ! " 

0  the  happy  excitement  of  tliat  morn- 
ing! Doctor  Emmet  came  first,  declar- 
ing it  was  a  royal  day,  got  up  especially 
for  the  benefit  of  the  girl  who  was  to  go 
travelling,  and  spent  the  rest  of  his  visit 
in  giving  directions  as  to  how  she  was 
to  be  bundled  up  for  fear  of  the  cold. 
Then  Sally  came  with  some  jelly  that  Del 
must  eat  before  she  started,  and  later, 
just  as  she  was  beginning  to  feel  very 
trembly  and  queer,  and  just  as  the  two 
red  spots  in  her  cheeks  were  growing 
redder  still,  the  sound  of  wheels  was 
heard  outside,  and  up  whirled  the  car- 
riage, its  windows  shining  and  glisten- 
ing like  crystal  and  its  wheels  flashing 
back  the  sunlight  from  every  polished 
spoke. 

Mr.  Middlebrook  was  out  and  up  the 
garden-path    almost   before    Del    could 


Del's  Debt  '    77 

realize  that  tlie  carriage  had  stopped, 
and  the  instant  he  got  within  the  house 
she  heard  his  cheery  voice  calling  out : 

''Where's  my  girl?  Where's  Del? 
And  is  she  ready  to  come  home?" 

For  a  moment  she  thought  she  must 
certainly  cry  for  very  joy,  but  she 
bravely  crushed  back  the  tears  and 
smiled  brightly  to  liim  as  he  entered  the 
room.  Then  for  a  few  moments  all  was 
hurry  and  bustle,  and  in  the  midst  of  it 
she  found  herself  buried  in  such  a  moun- 
tain of  shawls  and  wraps  that  she  could 
hardly  see  over  the  brim,  and  then  she 
was  lifted  bodily  in  Mr.  Middlebrook's 
strong  arms  and  carried  rapidly  to  the 
entry-door.  She  managed  to  call  out  a 
faint  ''Good-by"  to  Mrs.  Jud  and  Rhoda 
and  wDuld  have  kissed  her  hand  if  she 
could  have  got  it  free  of  the  shawls,  but 
she  was  bound  fast  hand  and  foot  and 
could  only  glance  back  at  them  with 
friendly  smiles  as  she  was  carried 
quickly  through  the  sparkling  air  and 
into  the  fur-filled  carriage. 

She  did  not  have  much  to  say  for  her- 
self on  the  way  home.  The  wonder  of 
it  all  seemed  to  tie  her  tongue  and  Mr. 

a —  Del's  Debt 


78  Del's  Debt 

Middlebrook  let  her  be  as  quiet  as  she 
chose.  The  outside  world  seemed 
changed  and  unfamiliar  to  her  after  her 
long  imprisonment,  and  she  hardly  recog- 
nized the  bare  roads  along  which  they 
were  being  carried,  and  which,  when  she 
had  seen  tliem  last,  had  been  gay  with 
September  colors.  But  her  heart  gave  a 
big  leap  as  the  carriage  turned  in  be- 
tween two  great  granite  gate-posts  and 
bowled  rapidly  up  a  wide  driveway  and 
under  a  splendid  porte-cochere.  The 
next  instant  the  big  door  of  the  house 
was  flung  open  wide  and  two  voices  ex- 
claimed in  cliorus : 

''Welcome  home,  Del!  Welcome 
home !  Now  carry  her  right  up.  Daddy, 
and  let  her  see — " 

It  was  all  like  dreamland  to  Del  and 
unlike  anything  she  had  ever  seen  be- 
fore, the  great  hall-room  into  which  she 
was  carried.  At  the  farther  side  and 
facing  the  front  door  was  an  immense 
fireplace  in  which  some  huge  logs  were 
burning  merrily,  flinging  their  red  and 
blue  sparks  high  up  the  black  throat  of 
the  chimney  and  making  the  andirons 
reflect    a    thousand    leaping,    dancing 


Del's  Debt  79 

tongues  of  flame  in  their  bright  brass 
surfaces.  On  either  side  of  the  fire- 
place were  quaint  settles  whose  backs 
were  sunk  deep  in  the  wall  itself  and 
whose  seats  were  broad  and  cushioned 
and  luxurious.  Old  rugs  were  spread 
about  everywhere,  and  copper  jars  con- 
taining growing  palms  and  graceful 
ferns  stood  here  and  there  upon  the 
floor  and  on  the  dear,  old-fashioned  win- 
dow-sills. There  were  glimpses  through 
curtained  doors  of  rooms  beyond  whose 
walls  were  lined  with  books  and  pictures, 
but  Del  had  only  a  minute  to  notice  all 
this,  for  Mr.  Middlebrook  did  not  delay, 
but  made  straight  for  the  stairway,  the 
twins  dancing  gaily  on  before.  At  the 
top  landing  the  advance-guard  came  to 
an  abrupt  halt. 

"Wait  a  minute  please.  Daddy!"  they 
cried  in  their  usual  chorus,  and  then  ran 
forward  together  and  flung  open  a  door 
that  let  a  flood  of  sunlight  into  the  dusky 
hall.  It  revealed  a  sight  that  made  Del 
catch  her  breath  with  very  delight,  and 
when  May  and  Margaret  shouted,  ''It  's 
yours,  Del !  Yours  all  to  yourself,  to  do 
what  you  like  with ! ' '  she  did  not  try  to 


80  Del's  Debt 

hide  her  feeling  any  longer,  "b\it  just 
dropped  her  head  on  Mr.  Middlebrook's 
shoulder  and  cried  right  heartily. 

The  twins  exchanged  the  meaningest 
of  looks,  for  they  felt  they  understood 
just  how  she  felt  and  it  was  best  to  let 
her  have  her  cry  out  in  comfort.  But 
the  shower  did  not  last  long,  and  even 
before  it  was  ended  Mr.  Middlebrook  had 
set  her  down  plump  in  the  midst  of  a 
cushion-crowded  couch,  saying:  ''Now, 
girls,  we  want  to  get  this  young  woman 
into  bed  just  as  soon  as  we  can.  Doctor 
Emmet  made  a  special  point  of  that  be- 
fore we  started  out,  so  if  you  '11  call  Mrs. 
Austen  she  can  see  if  there  's  any  earth- 
ly possibility  of  untangling  her  from  this 
mass  of  rubbish  here.  And  I  think  your 
company,  as  well  as  mine,  can  be  dis- 
pensed with  during  the  process  and  for 
a  while  after  too. ' ' 

The  sight  of  their  disappointed  faces 
went  to  Del's  heart,  and  though  she  was 
beginning  to  feel  quite  tired  and  would 
have  been  glad  to  be  alone  ''to  think  it 
all  out  by  herself, ' '  she  begged  that  they 
might  stay  and  promised  to  be  very. 


Del's  Debt  81 

very  quiet  indeed  if  their  father  would 
say  yes. 

When  she  was  fairly  between  her  soft 
blankets,  lying  luxuriously  back  amid  the 
sweet  down  pillows  in  her  new  ''frilly," 
lace-trimmed  night-dress,  she  started  out 
at  once  on  a  voyage  of  discovery.  The 
bed  in  which  she  lay  was  of  polished  ma- 
hogany, and  over  her  head  hung  the  dain- 
tiest of  little  testers  of  pink  cretonne, 
with  a  pink  rosette  in  the  center,  while 
the  cretonne  curtains  that  fell  at  the 
sides  were  tied  back  with  generous  loops 
of  pink  ribbon. 

In  one  corner  of  the  room  she  spied 
a  writing-desk,  in  another  a  dwarf  book- 
case filled  with  books.  Before  the  hearth 
was  a  low  rocking-chair,  and  near  by 
stood  a  work-table  on  the  spindliest  of 
spindle  legs.  A  dainty  dressing-table 
with  an  oval  swing-mirror  atop  held  all 
sorts  of  brushes  and  combs  and  fascinat- 
ing bottles  and  boxes.  The  windows  of 
this  wonderful  room  looked  out  over  the 
carriage-way  and  wide  lawn  and  then  out 
and  beyond  to  where  the  Sound  lay, 
broad  and  sparkling  in  the  sunlight. 
Upon   the   mantel-shelf   ticked    a   little 


82  Del's  Debt 

clock,  beneath  it  in  the  mite  of  a  grate 
burned  a  lump  of  sea-coal,  and  over  it^ — 
and  this  was  by  far  the  best  of  all — hung 
a  charming  picture  of  her  mother. 

* '  Where  did  it  come  from  1 ' '  she  asked 
May  and  Margaret,  gazing  fondly  up  at 
the  sweet  face  that  seemed  to  smile  down 
at  her  with  loving  tenderness. 

* '  0,  while  you  were  sick  Daddy  found 
a  little  photograph  of  her  on  your  bu- 
reau, and  when  we  were  planning  about 
this  room  he  took  it  down  to  New  York 
and  had  it  copied.  He  thought  it  would 
seem  more  like  home  to  have  her  here. 
May  has  one  of  our  mother  over  her 
mantelpiece  and  I  have  one  over  mine. 
May's  room  is  directly  next  to  this 
through  that  left-hand  door  and  mine  is 
there  through  the  right-hand  one.  We 
used  to  call  this  our  'betwinnity  room' 
because  it  was  square  in  the  middle  and 
we  always  had  it  to  play  in  when  we  were 
little.  But  now  we  're  too  old  for  that 
and  besides  Daddy  said  we  might  fix  it 
up  for  you.  So  when  we  knew  for  sure 
you  were  coming,  we  went  into  New  York 
with  him  and  he  let  us  buy  everything 
new,  and  we  three  chose  it  all  ourselves. 


Del's  Debt  83 

and  Mrs.  Austen  didn't  have  a  thing  to 
do  with  it,  except  that  she  and  Christine 
sewed  the  curtains  and  things,  and  all  the 
while  we  could  hardly  wait  to  get  you 
home  to  see  your  face  when  you  came  in, 
and  we  just  had  to  bite  our  tongues  all 
the  time  not  to  tell." 

"Every  time  we  came  to  see  you  we 
tried  to  find  out  what  sort  of  things 
you  'd  like  so  we  could  tell  Daddy  and 
have  him  get  them." 

"But  almost  the  greatest  sport  of  all 
was  getting  your  clothes  and  things 
made.  It  reminded  me  of  the  time  when 
we  used  to  fix  up  our  dolls.  It  was  such 
fun!  Mrs.  Jud  gave  Daddy  some  of 
your  things  to  bring  home  and  measure 
by  and  I  think  you  '11  like  what  he  has 
ordered  for  you.  Daddy  has  lovely  taste 
and  we  always  get  him  to  help  choose 
our  things  for  us  if  we  can,  'cause  when 
we  pick  out  anything  we  like  he  's  sure 
to  have  thought  it  was  the  nicest  what- 
ever-it-happened-to-be,  himself,  and 
they  're  lots  finer  and  more  expensive 
than  Mrs.  Austen  'd  buy.  She  's  always 
fearfully  skimpy  about  lace  and  embroi- 


84  Del's  Debt 

deries,  and  when  we  complain  she  says 
*  wilful  waste  makes  woeful  want.'  " 

It  grew  dark  very  early  and  then  Del  's 
tall  lamp  was  lighted  and  shone  out  with 
a  mellow  glow  from  under  its  splendid 
pink  shade.  Mr.  Middlebrook  came  to 
the  door  to  enquire  after  the  patient's 
health  and  was  instantly  set  upon  and 
dragged  bodily  in  and  made  to  sit  in  the 
big  arm-chair  before  the  fire  and  read 
aloud  to  them  from  one  of  tlie  new  books 
from  Del's  new  bookcase. 

But  though  the  twins  were  presently 
absorbed  in  the  story,  Del  could  not  keep 
her  mind  upon  it  at  all.  Her  thoughts 
insisted  upon  wandering  back  to  her  own 
particular  good  fortune,  that  seemed  so 
much  more  wonderful  than  any  which 
was  merely  ''made  up  out  of  somebody's 
head"  and  not  really  true  at  all. 

''Think  of  Mrs.  Jud's!  Think  of  Mrs. 
Tii^'gj"  g]|g  kept  repeating  to  herself  as 
she  glanced  about  her  beautiful  room, 
contrasting  it  with  what  she  had  so  lately 
left.  "O.  how  I'm  firateful,  grateful, 
arrateful !  Arid  to  think  I  'm  really  to  live 
here  for  ever  and  always !    That  it  ^s  my 


Del's  Debt  85 

home!  0,  if  Mammady  could  only  have 
had  it  too!" 

When  dinner-time  came  and  the  rest 
went  down-stairs,  leaving  her  alone  for 
a  while,  she  found  that  her  tired  head 
was  throbbing  and  that  the  whirling 
thoughts  in  her  brain  refused  to  stop. 
She  tried  again  and  again  to  ''compose 
her  mind,"  but  it  declined  to  be  com- 
posed, and  at  last  she  gave  up  in  des- 
peration, fairly  ready  to  cry  from  dizzi- 
ness and  bewilderment.  But  as  the  hot 
mist  rose  to  her  eyes,  it  seemed  to  her  it 
cleared  the  blur  in  her  brain  and  she 
could  see  again  her  mother's  gentle  face 
as  it  had  looked  when  times  were  special- 
ly hard  perhaps  and  worries  very  heavy, 
and  hear  again  her  brave  voice  saying: 
''When  you  feel  like  crying,  little  daugh- 
ter, try  to  sing  instead  and  see  if  it 
doesn't  help  to  make  the  burdens  seem 
lighter. ' ' 

"Sh!  What 's  that?"  asked  May  sud- 
denly, lifting  her  head  to  listen  and  for- 
getting all  about  the  mouthful  of  chicken 
she  had  been  on  the  point  of  putting  be- 
tween her  lips.  "It  sounds  like  some 
one  singing!" 


86  Del's  Debt 

''Yes,  of  course.     But  who?" 

''Sh!    Listen!" 

For  three  full  minutes  the  beautiful 
voice  overhead  carolled  and  trilled  and 
lifted  and  fell  as  blithely  and  easily  as 
if  it  had  been  a  bird's,  and  for  three  full 
minutes  the  three  amazed  Middlebrooks 
down-stairs  sat  motionless,  forgetful  of 
food  and  everything  else  in  the  wonder 
of  the  marvellous  performance. 

Then,  as  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  as 
it  had  begun,  the  song  ended,  the  mys- 
terious voice  bubbling  into  a  perfect  peal 
of  gay  laughter. 

**It  's  Del!"  gasped  the  excited  twins 
in  a  breath,  and,  regardless  of  all  form 
and  manners,  they  rushed  from  the  table 
and  up  into  the  room  of  their  invalid  to 
find  her  sitting  amid  her  pillows  laugh- 
ing rapturously,  while  Christine,  the 
French  maid,  stood  by,  gazing  at  her  as 
though  she  were  some  wonderful  bird  in 
a  cage  at  the  Zoo. 


Del's  Debt  87 


CHAPTER  VI 

*  *  All,  mes  demoiselles ! ' '  exclaimed  the 
woman,  turning  to  them  and  clasping  her 
hands  dramatically,  while  she  cast  her 
eyes  toward  the  ceiling,  *'mais,  c'est  une 
veritable  voix  d'ange!  dat  is  one  truly 
angel-voice !  I  haf  live  wid  one  Madame 
wad  seeng  biffore  gret  nombre  of  pipple 
in  ze  opera  and  I  know  ze  propre  seeng- 
ing  wen  I  hear  it.  Ah,  I  could  not  belif 
my  ear!  I  come  and  fine  it  is  Made- 
moiselle and  zen  I  cannot  conceal  my 
wondre. " 

''Well,  I  don't  blame  you,"  exclaimed 
May  heartily.    ' '  We  can 't  conceal  ours. ' ' 

*'We  couldn't  imagine  who  it  could 
be,"  Margaret  put  in. 

''0  dear,"  sighed  Del  regretfully, 
''now  I  've  gone  and  disturbed  you  all 
and  made  you  come  up  from  your  dinner 
before  you  're  through.  I  'm  so  sorry,  I 
really  am.  Please  go  down  again  and 
I  '11  promise  certain  true,  black  and  blue, 
I  won't  make  another  sound !" 

"But  we  want  you  to!  We  want 
you  to!"   declared  May  emphatically. 


88  Bel's  Debt 

*'It  's  just  the  loveliest  thing  I  ever 
heard  and  you  must  do  it  for  us  lots." 

"No,  no,"  said  Mr.  Middlebrook  from 
the  doorway.  ' '  She  must  by  no  means 
do  it  lots.  We  don't  want  her  to  over- 
tax her  voice,  and  there  is  great  danger 
of  that  after  her  sickness,  and  while  she 
is  still  so  young.  We  must  wait  pa- 
tiently, and  by  and  by  when  the  proper 
time  comes  she  shall  be  given  the  very 
best  opportunities  and — "  ' 

*'Do  you  mean,"  interrupted  Del 
breathlessly,  ''that  I  can  be  taught? 
Really  taught?  0,  that  was  what 
Mamma  always  wanted,  and  she  used  to 
give  me  lessons  herself,  but  she  hoped 
some  day  I  could  go  abroad.  We  were 
trying  to  save  money  enough  so  some 
day  I  could  take  lessons  of — but  it  costs 
so  much  and  she  said  we  must  never 
make  debts — not  ever  have  things  we 
couldn't  pay  for — " 

It  seemed  to  Del  the  crowning  flour- 
ish of  the  fairy  godmother's  wand  that 
she  could  really  look  forward  with  cer- 
tainty to  being  taught  to  sing.  When 
Mr.  Middlebrook  had  dragged  the  un- 
willing twins  back  to  their  dinner,  and 


Del's  Debt  89 

while  she  herself  was  being  served  with 
her  own,  the  delight  of  the  thought  made 
her  almost  forget  to  eat. 

*'I  '11  tell  you  what  I  Ve  just  thought 
of,"  said  Margaret,  rushing  back  as  soon 
as  she  could  induce  her  father  to  excuse 
her  from  the  table.  ''I  'm  going  to  tell 
you  a  secret.  You  see  May  and  I  kind 
of  wanted  to  get  up  a  special  surprise  for 
Christinas,  beside  presents  and  stockings 
and  things — something  that  would  be  a 
surprise  to  Daddy,  you  know.  He  's  al- 
ways so  good  to  us.  And  so — so  at  last 
we  decided  upon  a  splendid  plan.  Christ- 
mas eve  we  're  to  hang  up  stockings  just 
the  same  as  ever,  and  Christmas  morn- 
ing we  're  to  have  the  tree  with  all  the 
poor  children  in  to  see  and  to  get  things, 
just  as  we  always  do ;  and  later  we  're 
to  give  and  get  our  own  presents,  and 
last  of  all,  Papa  is  n't  to  know  there  's  to 
be  anything  different,  but  May  and  I  are 
going  to  write  invitations  and  things  and 
send  them  round,  and  then  on  Christmas 
night  we  're  going  to  have  a  lot  of  chairs 
carried  in  to  the  big  hall-room  and  put  in 
rows,  and  the  doors  of  the  drawing-room 
are  to  be  wide  open  and  the  portieres 


90  Del's  Debt 

taken  down  and  a  real  drop-curtain 
hung  between,  and  we  're  going  to  fix  a 
sort  of  stage  just  back  of  it  with  all  the 
palms  and  plants  from  the  conservatory 
for  scenery,  you  know,  and  then  I  have 
written  a  play  and  we  're  going  to  act 
it — Sally  Emmet,  Clare  Van  Ness,  and 
May  and  I.  Only  Clare  can't  now  be- 
cause she  's  going  to  New  York  to  her 
grandmother's,  and  we  want  you  in  her 
place.  It  just  takes  four  to  do  it  and 
it  's  the  loveliest  fun.  You  see,  after 
dinner  on  Christmas  Daddy  always  takes 
the  carriage  and  kind  of  carries  clothes 
and  things  to  people  round,  and  he  never 
gets  back  until  late.  So  we  shall  have 
an  elegant  chance  to  get  everything  fixed. 
Leonard  Van  Ness  is  going  to  help  us. 
He  knows  all  about  such  things,  so  when 
Daddy  comes  home  again  it  '11  all  be  done 
and  then  we  won't  care  if  he  does  see 
the  chairs  and  all.  The  only  thing  that 
makes  May  and  me  feel  badly  is  that  we 
have  used  up  all  our  money  on  presents 
and  have  n't  any  left  to  get  things  for  the 
people  to  eat.  But  it  can  't  be  helped 
and  I  'm  not  going  to  worry.  When 
Clare  told  us  she  could  n't  take  part  we 


DePs  Debt  91 

were  just  in  despair,  and  now  you  Ve 
turned  up  in  her  place  and — 0,  you  will 
sing  for  us,  Del,  won't  you?" 

Del  didn't  hesitate  a  minute. 

* '  Of  course  I  will  if  you  think  I  can  do 
it  well  enough,"  she  said.  ''Only  you 
have  n't  told  what  it  is  I  'm  to  sing  and 
perhaps  it  would  be  too  hard  for  me.  I 
can  only  sing  very  easy  things,  you  know, 
but  I  '11  try  anyway  and  do  the  best  I 
can."  Whereupon  Margaret  hugged 
her  on  the  spot  and  went  on  to  confide 
the  plot  of  her  play  with  all  the  zest  of 
a  born  dramatist. 

''There  are  three  goddesses  who  are 
in  love  with  a  shepherd  lad  who  feeds 
his  flocks — " 

"Like  Norval's  father  on  the  Gram- 
pian hills,  you  know,"  interrupted  May, 
who  had  come  up-stairs  and  was  in  a 
teasing  mood. 

"0,  do  keep  still,  please.  You  put  me 
out,"  cried  Margaret.  "Who  feeds  his 
flocks  in  a  valley  near  the  sylvan  glade 
in  which  they  dwell.  (You  see  it  's  po- 
etry.) These  goddesses  are  all  awfully 
fond  of  one  another,  and  when  they  find 
out  that  they  're  all  enamoured  of  the 


92  Del's  Debt 

same  youth,  they  turn  right  round  and 
tell  one  another  all  about  it.  Of  course 
they  know  they  can't  all  win  his  heart, 
so  they  make  up  their  minds  that  the 
only  way  out  of  it  (of  course  it  is  n't  put 
that  way  in  the  play)  is  to  make  some 
sort  of  an  arrangement  that  will  give 
each  of  them  a  fair  chance.  I  forgot  to 
say  the  youth  has  never  set  eyes  on  any 
one  of  them.  At  last  they  hit  on  a  plan 
that  seems  to  be  a  pretty  good  one. 
They  will  appear  before  him  one  by  one, 
and  the  goddess  that  really  wins  his  heart 
can  wed  him  and  the  others  '11  have  to 
make  up  their  minds  to  it.  So  one  balmy 
morning  the  shepherd  (that  's  Sally,  be- 
cause she  's  the  tallest,  you  know)  is  pip- 
ing to  himself  in  the  shade — ^I  don't 
mean  smoking,  of  course,  I  mean  playing 
on  a  what-you-call-it,  flute,  or  some- 
thing— and  his  sheep  are  grazing  in  the 
valley  out  of  sight,  when  there  appears 
before  his  wondering  gaze  a  beauteous 
maiden  (that  's  May  dressed  up  like  the 
goddess  of  Literature)." 

.  "By  the  way,  Marg,  is  there  a  goddess 
of  Literature?"  asked  May. 
"0,  I  guess  so.    I  don't  care.    Any- 


Del's  Debt  93 

how  she  appears  before  him  and  tells 
him  who  she  is,  and  then  when  she  tells 
him  she  's  a  goddess,  he  's  so  surprised 
he  just  falls  on  his  knees  before  her  and 

she  says : 

'  Arise,  fair  youth !  Bend  not  that  noble  knee. 
Fear  not  ray  eyes,  they  do  but  smile  on  thee.' 

"So  he  arises  and  they  talk  together, 
but  she  can  see  all  the  time  that  he 
has  n  't  much  use  for  her,  when  by  and 
by  in  comes  the  goddess  of  Painting 
(that  's  me)  and  tve  have  a  conversation, 
while  May  goes  off  under  a  tree  and  sort 
of  grieves,  and  I  am  trying  my  best  to 
get  him  to  become  enslaved  but  he  won't, 
though  he  's  perfectly  polite  about  it, 
when  all  at  once  we  hear  the  sound  of 
singing  far  off.  He  jumps  up  in  a  hurry 
(it  's,  arises  in  haste,  in  the  play)  from 
the  grassy  knoll  on  which  we  are  sitting 
and  in  comes — you,  dressed  up  as  the 
goddess  of  Music  and  Dancing.  As  soon 
as  you  appear  he  falls  in  love  with  you, 
and  then  I  go  and  grieve  with  May  until 
you  've  sung  and  danced  some  and  he  's 
told  you  how  he  adores  you,  and  then 
we  come  out  and  it  all  ends  in  a  sylvan 

7  —  Del's  Debt 


94  DePs  Debt 

dance.  Of  course  you  can  do  it,  Del.  If 
you  feel  very  weak  you  can  kind  of  sing 
low  and  you  needn't  dance  much,  only 
it  will  be  sucb  fun  with  the  dresses  and 
things. ' ' 

''Fun!"  Why,  it  made  Del's  eyes 
sparkle  just  to  think  of  it,  and  she  made 
up  her  mind  then  and  there  to  do  or 
die  in  the  attempt  to  help  crown  Mar- 
garet's play  with  glory. 

The  air  of  the  great  house  was  kept 
at  such  an  even  temperature  that  Del 
could  wander  about  wherever  she  chose 
without  fear  of  catching  cold,  and  the 
change  and  gentle  exercise  made  another 
girl  of  her.  Thanksgiving  came  and 
went  in  a  sort  of  happy  dream,  and  then 
she  found  herself  surrounded  by  an  air 
of  delightful  Christmas  mystery.  There 
was  much  whispering  in  comers  and 
whisking  into  closets,  and  the  best  of  all 
was  that  she  herself  was  taking  part  in 
the  secret  preparations  and  having  to 
dodge  the  twins  and  elude  ''Daddy"  in 
order  that  her  presents  for  them  should 
not  be  discovered  before  the  right  time 
had  come. 

Every  day  while  May  and  Margaret 


Del's  Debt  95 

*■ 

were  at  school  Del  spent  hours  and  hours 
rehearsing  her  part  in  the  play,  for  she 
was  determined  that  her  performance 
should  be  as  much  of  a  surprise  as  the 
rest.  She  practiced  new  steps  and  in- 
vented new  figures  for  her  dance,  trip- 
ping away  to  the  accompaniment  of  her 
own  thrilling  voice  until  she  would  sink 
down  in  one  of  the  cushioned  settles  in 
the  hall-room,  flushed  and  breathless,  but 
with  the  triumphant  sense  of  having 
mastered  her  part  and  being  prepared  to 
do  justice  to  the  genius  of  her  beloved 
playwright. 

Early  on  Christmas  morning  Del  woke 
just  in  time  to  hear  her  little  clock  strike 
six,  after  which  she  lay  for  some  time 
quietly  thinking  about  the  changes  that 
had  taken  place  in  her  life  since  the  year 
before.  She  had  just  reached  the  point, 
which  she  always  reached  very  soon  in 
her  frequent  considerings  of  the  same 
subject,  where  she  felt  how  very,  very 
good  they  all  were  to  her,  and  where  she 
remembered  what  she  had  heard  Doctor 
Emmet  say  about  her  owing  such  a  debt 
to  Mr.  Middlebrook,  and  where  she  deter- 
mined in  her  resolute  little  heart  to  pay 


96  Del's  Debt 

it  if  she  could,  when  she  heard  a  slight 
sound  in  the  darkness  beside  her  and 
managed  to  distinguish  Margie's  white- 
robed  figure  in  the  gloom.  She  gave  a 
little  laugh. 

''I  'm  awake,  Marg,"  she  said,  ''so  if 
you  've  come  to  steal  my  stocking  you 
can  give  it  up. ' ' 

"I  haven't.  May  I  get  in  bed  with 
you,  Del?  The  fact  is,  I  hardly  slept  a 
wink  last  night,  worrying  about  the  play. 
Do  you  think  it  's  very  bad  ? ' ' 

''Badr'  echoed  Del.  ''It's  as  good 
as  Shakespeare.  Why,  it  's  just  splen- 
did, and  my  part  's  the  best  of  all. 
You  've  given  me  the  best — but  then,  you 
always  do,  you  know.  I  'm  going  to  try 
so  hard  to  do  it  nicely." 

"Good  for  you,  Dellie!"  said  another 
voice,  and  in  came  May  to  make  a  tliird 
snuggler  under  the  warm  blankets. 

"Sometimes  I  think,"  said  Del  confi- 
dentially to  her  two  listeners,  ' '  that  I  'd 
like  to  be  able  to  sing  like  that  Madame 
Helmann  that  Christine  talks  about,  and 
go  before  hundreds  and  hundreds  of 
people  and  have  my  voice  just  set  them 
to  crying  when  I  sing  about  that  beau- 


Del's  Debt  97 

tiful  Princess  that  was  brought  over  the 
seas  to  marry  the  king  she  didn't  love 
and  who  dies  at  the  last  of  it.  Christine 
says  she  used  to  go  with  her  to  the  opera, 
and  at  the  end  of  it  all  the  people  would 
clap  and  stamp  and  cheer  and  wave  their 
handkerchiefs  and  then  there  would  be 
such  a  shouting  of '  Helmann !  Helmann ! ' 
until  she  'd  have  to  come  before  the  cur- 
tain just  to  let  them  see  her  and  to  make 
them  keep  still  and  go  home.  Mustn't 
it  be  splendid  to  feel  you  can  sing  people 
into  loving  you  sol"  she  concluded  with 
a  rapturous  sigh. 

*'Do  you  really  s'pose  it  's  loving f" 
asked  literal  May.  ' '  It  might  be  getting 
excited  with  the  story  of  the  opera  and 
the  lights  and  people  and  things.  I 
don't  s'pose,  if  they  just  heard  her  sing 
a  song  in  a  plain  house,  they  'd  act  so." 

''And  anyway,"  said  Margaret,  ''I  've 
heard  Daddy  tell  often  about  singers  and 
people  who  have  been  just  as  great  as 
Christine's  Madame  Helmann  and  got 
just  as  much  applause  and  things,  and 
they  died  way  up  in  cold  garrets  with  no 
clothes  and  nothing  to  eat  and  not  any- 
body near.     So   it  can't  be  love   if  it 


98  Del's  Debt 

leaves  you  alone  like  that  when  you  're 
old  and  worn  out  and  your  voice  is 
cracked. ' ' 

They  held  a  last  dress-rehearsal  early 
in  the  afternoon  just  after  Mr.  Middle- 
brook  had  driven  away  with  a  carriage- 
ful  of  good  things  to  distribute  among 
the  needy  in  the  neighborhood.  Then 
how  they  skipped  to  get  all  finished  be- 
fore his  return. 

But  really  there  was  not  so  much  to 
do  after  all,  beyond  ranging  the  camp- 
chairs  in  rows  and  hanging  the  drop- 
curtain  in  its  place,  for  they  had  been 
what  Mrs.  Jud  called  ''right  fore- 
handed," and  had  contrived  to  have 
everything  in  such  shape  that  nothing 
was  necessary  at  the  last  moment  but 
to  put  it  where  it  belonged.  Even  the 
stage  itself  took  but  a  little  while  to  set 
in  place,  for  Leonard  Van  Ness  and  Mar- 
tin, the  coachman,  had  built  it  in  sec- 
tions so  that  it  could  be  easily  carried 
into  the  house  and  fitted  together  with 
no  trouble  at  all.  When  it  was  up,  the 
girls  draped  it  artistically  with  a  quan- 
tity of  green  baize  they  had  found  folded 
away  in  some  remote  corner  of  the  gar- 


Del's  Debt  99 

ret,  and  then  Michael,  the  gardener,  car- 
ried in  his  finest  shrubs  and  pahns  from 
the  conservatory  and  placed  them  about 
to  serve  as  the  foliage  of  the  ''woody 
glade"  described  in  Margaret's  pro- 
gram. It  seemed  no  time  at  all  before 
they  were  done  and  their  father  at  home 
once  more,  being  told  to  ' '  wait  and  see ' ' 
when  he  wanted  to  know  ''What  these 
young  conspirators  meant  to  turn  his 
house  into  now?" 

But  at  the  first  sound  of  wheels  and 
the  first  sight  of  the  arriving  audience, 
Margaret  grew  weak  and  all  her  fine 
courage  forsook  her.  ' '  0  girls !  I  'm  so 
scared!"  she  gasped  in  a  faint  voice. 
"If  it  was  n't  my  play  I  wouldn't  care 
so  much,  but — 0,  why  did  the  people 
come?  Why  didn't  they  send  regrets! 
I  think  they  're  real  mean  to  crowd  in 
this  way!    I — " 

' '  0  pshaw !  I  said  you  'd  fizzle  out  at 
the  last  moment  and  spoil  it  all,  and  now 
you  're  doing  it,"  remarked  the  goddess 
of  Literature  elegantly.  "For  mercy's 
sake,  behave  yourself,  Marg.  It  '11  all  be 
perfectly  mag,  if  you  '11  only  keep  jolly 
about  it." 


100  Del's  Debt 

"I  say,"  whispered  Leonard  through 
the  keyhole  of  their  dressing-room  door, 
*'it  's  packed  already,  as  close  as  a  sar- 
dine-box. We  '11  have  to  hang  out  a 
sign  'Standing-room  only.'  Everybody 
you  ever  heard  of  is  here.  That  Mr. 
"What  's-his-name  who  visits  the  Uttleys 
— he  's  on  a  big  New  York  newspaper, 
you  know.  And  Mrs.  Barton!  Her 
son's  a  poet!  0,  I  tell  you  what  it  is, 
you  '11  have  to  keep  your  wits  about 
you." 

Poor  Margaret  gave  a  groan. 

** Hullo!  There  goes  the  clock,"  con- 
tinued Leonard.  *'It  's  eight  to  the 
stroke.  You  '11  have  to  begin  sharp  and 
not  keep  'em  waiting  or  the  gallery-gods 
will  make  a  row.     Come  on  down ! ' ' 

They  made  their  way  down  the  back 
stairs,  through  the  butler's  pantry,  and 
by  hidden  passages  into  the  drawing- 
room.  Once  behind  the  curtain,  they 
were  all  struck  with  a  sudden  weakness 
in  the  knees.    All,  that  is,  but  Del. 

Her  face  was  radiant,  her  cheeks 
flushed,  and  her  eyes  sparkling.  Her 
delicate  costume,  her  loose,  curling  hair, 
her  dainty  sandals,  all  gave  her  the  sense 


Del's  Debt  101 

of  exquisite  lightness  and  freedom.  She 
felt  as  if  she  were  but  a  feather  and  could 
float  through  her  part  with  no  more  ef- 
fort than  the  mere  moving  of  her  feet 
in  the  figures. 

Tinkle!  Tinkle!  went  the  little  call- 
bell,  and  then  up  rolled  the  curtain,  ''dis- 
covering" to  the  audience  a  ''thickly 
wooded  glade"  about  which  rubber- 
plants  and  palms,  acacias  and  ferns, 
grew  in  luxurious  profusion. 

Then  appeared  the  three  goddesses, 
each  from  a  different  direction,  and, 
meeting  in  the  center  of  the  stage,  con- 
fided to  one  another  and  to  the  audience 
the  embarrassing  secret  of  their  unre- 
ciprocated affections: 

"  From  far  away  we  've  seen  a  shepherd 
Clad  in  a  simple  skin  of  leopard, 
And  lo!  his  grace  so  charmeth  us 
We  can  not  help  but  love  him  thus!  " 

Being  ladies  of  sense  as  well  as  sus- 
ceptibility, they  see  at  a  glance  that  it 
will  be  quite  impossible  for  all  three  to 
succeed,  and  so  they  contrive  a  plan  by 
which  each  will  have  what  Leonard  dis- 
respectfully called  ' '  a  fair  show. ' '  They 
exeunt,  right,  left,  and  back,  and  present- 


102  Del's  Debt 

ly  tlie  shepherd  comes  on,  piping  to  his 
imaginary  flock  and  quite  unsuspicious  of 
the  snare  being  laid  to  entrap  his  af- 
fections. 

"  I  am  a  gentle  shepherd,  and 
I  love  my  roving  flocks. 
They  skip  upon  the  grassy  strand 
And  gambol  on  the  rocks." 

But  before  he  has  time  to  give  much 
more  than  this  brief  account  of  himself, 
the  goddess  of  Literature  appears  be- 
fore him,  and  he  is  so  dazzled  by  her 
beauty  and  the  fact  that  she  is  a  god- 
dess that  he  falls  at  her  feet  and  only 
rises  at  her  express  command. 

But  though  he  gets  up  obediently  at  her 
''Rise,  noble  youth,"  etc.,  he  is  so  plainly 
not  in  love  with  the  goddess  of  Litera- 
ture that  she  wastes  no  further  time  on 
him,  but  goes  and  settles  herself  under 
an  acacia  to  grieve,  in  time  for  the  god- 
dess of  Painting  to  appear  on  the  scene 
and  *'try  her  luck,''  as  Leonard  de- 
scribed it. 

But  still  the  shepherd  remains  un- 
moved, though  his  second  admirer  picks 


Del's  Debt  103 

no  bones  about  telling  him  the  state  of 
her  feelings. 

"  Thou  art  so  tall  and  fair  and  good, 
Thou  gentle  shepherd  of  the  wood, 
That,  though   I  am  a  goddess  great, 
I  love  thee  and  would  be  thy  mate." 

He  shakes  his  head  sadly  and  is  just 
about  to  tell  her  that  he  will  be  a  brother 
to  her,  or  words  to  that  effect,  when  a 
sound  is  heard  in  the  distance  which 
causes  him  to  pause  and  put  his  hand  to 
his  ear  to  signify  he  is  listening.  The 
singing  grows  clearer  and  more  distinct, 
louder  and  more  entrancing,  and  in  a 
moment  in  comes  the  goddess  of  Music, 
gliding  and  tripping,  nodding  and  car- 
olling to  win  his  heart  out  of  his  breast, 
not  to  speak  of  those  of  her  audience  as 
well.  Such  dancing  as  Del  showed  them 
that  night !  and  such  singing  as  she  gave 
them !  The  two  grieving  goddesses  were 
so  surprised  and  delighted  that  when 
''the  house"  broke  into  a  thunderous 
round  of  applause  even  before  she  had 
finished  her  first  figure,  they  joined  in 
with  a  hearty  good  will,  and  clapped 
away  like  two  pleased  and  generous  hu- 
man maidens.     But  when  Del  began  to 


104  Del's  Debt 

sing  her  song  there  was  a  breathless 
silence. 

''Jove,  but  that  child  has  a  voice!" 
exclaimed  enthusiastic  Mr.  Van  Ness  to 
Mr.  Middlebrook.  ''A  born  little  artist 
too.  If  she  grows  up  she  '11  make  her 
mark,  I  'd  lay  a  wager." 

The  curtain  fell  amid  a  deafening  clap- 
ping of  hands  and  calling  of  ''Encore! 
Encore!"  but  of  course  they  could  not 
repeat  the  play,  so  they  had  to  compro- 
mise by  sending  Del  out  again  to  bow 
and  take  a  few  steps  for  them  and  sing 
the  last  verse  of  her  song,  and  still  they 
clapped. 

''They  're  giving  you  a  'curtain-call,' 
Margie, ' '  whispered  Leonard.  ' '  You  're 
the  authoress,  you  know,  and  they  want 
you.  Go  on,  quick ! ' '  and  he  gave  her  a 
gentle  shove  from  the  wings. 

"Speech!  Speech!"  called  Mr.  Van 
Ness,  seconded  immediately  by  every- 
body else. 

Poor  Margaret !  She  was  fairly  scared 
to  death,  but,  seeing  no  way  out  of  her 
dilemma,  she  stepped  forward  bravely, 
bowed,  and  said : 

"It  's  awfully  nice  of  you  to  like  it.     I 


Del's  Debt  105 

hoped  you  would,  but  of  course  I  didn't 
know.  I  was  afraid  it  was  n  't  very  good. 
Del  made  it  seem  much  better.  .  .  . 
Thank  you!" 

But  if  the  girls  imagined  they  were 
the  only  clever  ones  at  devising  surprises 
they  were  mistaken.  As  they  stole  up 
to  their  dressing-room  by  the  back  way 
to  take  off  their  stage  finery,  an  unex- 
pected sound  from  the  conservatory 
caused  them  to  stand  still  and  prick  up 
their  ears  as  the  shepherd  had  done  at 
the  first  hint  of  Del's  singing.  It  was 
like  a  scraping  of  bows  across  violin 
and  'cello  strings  and  a  flute  being  put  in 
tune. 

"You  will  be  pleased  to  make  a  haste," 
Christine  exclaimed  as  soon  as  they  had 
overcome  their  astonishment  enough  to 
get  themselves  into  the  dressing-room. 
''Your  Papa  desires  you  to  put  on  the 
party-dresses  and  go  down-stairs  for  the 
entertainment  of  your  friends." 

''How  did  you  ever  know.  Daddy f* 
demanded  May,  when  the  last  guest  had 
gone  and  the  three  tired  but  triumphant 
goddesses  stood  before  the  fire  just  a 


106  Del's  Debt 

moment  before  being  hurried  off  to  bed 
by  Mr.  Middlebrook. 

*'0,  a  little  bird  told  me  you  would 
like  a  dance  on  Christmas  night,  and 
so  one  day  I  left  word  with  some  mu- 
sicians in  town,  and  as  one  can't  very 
well  dance  without  having  something  to 
eat,  it  was  natural  that  I  should  order  a 
little  supper,  and  not  at  all  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  both  the  musicians  and  the 
supper  should  arrive  on  time.  There 
was  no  witchcraft  about  it.  And  now, 
good-night.  My  authoress,  allow  me  to 
salute  your  classic  brow.  My  little  can- 
tatrice,  I  must  kiss  you.  My  young  host- 
ess, hug  me  once  more,  and  then — " 

The  girls  did  not  wait  for  a  second  bid- 
ding, but  ran  laughing  and  chattering  up- 
stairs, their  heads  full  of  music  and  their 
hands  full  of  favors. 

''Wasn't  it  fun?"  asked  May. 

''Just  splendiferous!"  returned  Mar- 
garet. 

"There  wasn't  a  minute  that  wasn't 
jolly,"  announced  Del.  "It  kept  on  be- 
ing a  lovely  time  right  along,  and  every- 
body was  enjoying  it.    It  was  so  nice. 


Del's  Debt  107 

I  never  did  have  such  a  magnificent  even- 
ing. ' ' 

"0  dear!  I  shall  never  forget  how 
scared  I  was  when  I  first  stood  before  all 
those  people,"  said  Margaret.  "It 
seemed  to  me  I  could  n't  say  a  word." 

''Why,  I  was  n't  frightened  a  bit,"  de- 
clared Del.  "It  made  me  feel  just  like 
doing  something  splendid.  I  didn't 
care  for  myself  at  all,  only  my  part." 

"Well,  it  made  me  just  stiff  all  over 
and  quakey.  But  you  're  different,  I 
guess.  You  didn't  seem  like  our  Del  in 
the  least.  You  don't  know  how  funny 
your  eyes  looked.  They  were  awfully 
big  and  dark  and  they  shone  like  any- 
thing, and  your  cheeks  were  just  as  red, 
and  you  looked  as  if  you  wouldn't  hear 
if  we  spoke  to  you. ' ' 

"I  seemed  ever  so  queer  to  myself," 
admitted  Del,  "but  if  I  did  it  well  I  don't 
care,  and,  anyway,  it  was  a  beautiful 
play,  and  even  Mrs.  Barton  said  so." 


108  Del's  Debt 


CHAPTER  VII 

The  lull  that  generally  follows  the 
Christmas  whirlwind  is  apt  to  be  a  try- 
ing time  for  most  fun-and-frolic-loving 
young  creatures,  who  find  it  hard  to  be- 
lieve that  just  as  too  much  candy  is  sure 
to  cause  indigestion,  so  too  much  jolli- 
fication is  certain  to  upset  the  nerves  and 
disagree  with  the  spirits. 

The  twins  found  themselves  at  the  end 
of  their  three- weeks'  holiday  consider- 
ably the  worse  for  wear  and  with  tem- 
pers that  threatened  to  explode  at  a 
touch,  while  Del  suddenly  woke  to  the 
fact  that  life  even  in  this  splendid  house 
was  not  a  fairy-tale  after  all,  and  that 
there  were  humdrum  duties  and  daily 
drudgery  to  be  done  here  just  as  else- 
where. The  dull  school  routine  seemed 
doubly  tiresome  by  contrast  with  the  gay 
vacation  liberty,  and  when  the  first  nov- 
elty of  Del's  home-coming  had  worn  off, 
the  thre6  girls  discovered  that  they  must 
all  look  sharp  if  they  wished  to  avoid 
treading  on  one  another's  toes  and  end- 
ing in  a  general  skirmish.     Margaret's 


Del's  Debt  109 

occasional  fits  of  sulky  gloom  had  always 
irritated  May,  while  her  frequent  gusts 
of  hot  temper  filled  her  sister  with  scorn, 
which  she  made  no  attempt  to  hide.  Del, 
it  turned  out,  was  slow  to  anger,  but 
quick  to  feel  a  real  or  fancied  slight,  and 
her  sensitiveness  made  the  easy-going 
twins  uncomfortable  and  at  last  openly 
rebellious,  while  their  rough-and-ready 
ways  astonished  and  dismayed  Del. 

"The  very  sight  of  j^our  room  makes 
me  mad, ' '  declared  May,  half  in  fun,  half 
in  earnest,  as  she  stood  looking  in  from 
the  threshold  of  her  own  untidy  cham- 
ber one  morning.  ''It 's  the  primmest, 
old-maidishest  place  I  ever  saw.  All 
your  nice  little  ribbons  and  things  folded 
up  and  laid  away  in  nice  little  boxes  in 
your  bureau-drawers,  and  all  your  neat 
little  boots  ranged  in  a  neat  little  row  in 
your  neat  little  closet.  I  would  n't  be  so 
particular  and  pernickety,  not  for  any- 
thing in  the  world. ' ' 

''I  like  to  have  things  orderly  and 
where  they  belons:,"  returned  Del  quiet- 
ly, while  a  faint  flush  crept  slowly  up  to 
her  temples. 

''Well,  things  can  be  orderly  enough 

S  —  Del's  Debt 


110  Del's  Debt 

and  where  they  belong  even  if  you  don 't 
spend  such  an  everlasting  while  fussing 
over  them.  Goodness  me!  Life  's  too 
short !  I  can't  afford  to  waste  time  over 
such  nonsense.  Come  along !  We  almost 
missed  the  train  yesterday,  and  we 
are  n't  any  too  early  to-day,  and  I  think 
being  prompt  at  school  is  lots  more  im- 
portant than  having  every  identical  pin 
in  your  cushion  stuck  in  just  so." 

Del  pressed  her  lips  together  tightly 
and  turned  her  head  away  to  hide  the 
heightened  color  in  her  face. 

''0  May,"  called  Margaret  in  a  for- 
lorn voice  from  her  room  next  door,  ' '  I 
can 't  find  my  glove.  The  right-hand  one 
of  the  new  gray  castor  pair,  and  my  old 
tan  ones  are  too  shabby  to  wear.  Won't 
you  lend  me  yours  ? ' ' 

*'My  new  gray  ones?  That  I  'm  not 
wearing  myself  because  I  'm  saving  'em 
for  special  ?    Well,  I  like  that ! ' ' 

*' Please  do,  May!" 

"0,  all  right.  Go  along  and  take  'em, 
only  do  hurry  and  come.  You  and  Del 
are  the  slowest  coaches  that  ever  lived. 
You  almost  always  delay  us  for  the  train, 
and  I  hate  to  be  late." 


Del's  Debt  m 

Margaret  cheerfully  scampered  across 
to  May's  room  and  began,  quite  unre- 
sentfuliy,  to  turn  the  place  upside  down 
in  her  search  for  what  she  wanted,  while 
Del  hurried  on  her  own  things  and  fol- 
lowed May  to  the  carriage,  conscious  that 
she  felt  hurt  and  sore  and,  at  the  same 
time,  ashamed  of  herself  for  doing  so. 

They  did  not  miss  the  train  in  spite  of 
Margaret's  delay,  and  by  the  time  they 
were  well  settled  in  the  car  and  steam- 
ing briskly  toward  the  city,  their  slight 
flurry  had  quite  subsided,  and  Del  alone 
went  through  the  day  with  a  little  low 
place  in  her  spirits  that  would  not  rise 
to  the  level  of  her  customary  cheerful- 
ness. She  wanted  not  to  be  ''touchy," 
but  she  could  not  help  remembering  the 
difference  in  her  own  position  and  the 
twins '  and  feeling  that  they  remembered 
it  too.  Of  course  this  was  not  at  all 
as  it  should  have  been.  May  knew  it 
was  n't  ''nice"  to  get  out  of  temper  and 
then  vent  her  impatience  on  the  nearest 
one  at  hand,  Margaret  would  have  con- 
fessed that  she  was  "horrid  sulky  some- 
times," and  Del  could  not  have  denied 
that  she  was  fussy  and  old-maidish  about 


112  Del's  Debt 

her  things  and  oversensitive  to  criticism 
and  what  she  fancied  people  were  think- 
ing of  her.  All  three  were  fully  aware 
of  their  failings,  and  they  always  in- 
tended *' never  to  do  so  any  more,"  but 
somehow  their  good  intentions  did  not 
always  last  over  to  the  occasions  when 
they  would  have  done  the  most  good, 
which  is  sometimes  the  way  with  good 
intentions. 

*'0, 1  say,  Marg,"  exclaimed  May  one 
afternoon  about  a  week  or  so  later,  as 
she  was  getting  ready  to  go  skating  with 
Leonard,  who  was  home  from  college  for 
over  Sunday,  ''Sally  Emmet,  the  two 
Vans,  and  some  more  are  going  to  be  out 
on  the  pond  this  afternoon,  you  have  n't 
forgotten?  Well,  I  want  to  wear  my 
gloves — the  gray  ones,  you  know.  Hand 
'em  over,  please." 

Margaret  tossed  up  her  chin.  ' '  Hand 
'em  over !  Well,  I  like  that !  I  have  n't  got 
your  old  gloves." 

"Got  'em?  Why,  of  course  you  have,'* 
returned  May  sharply.  ''Don't  you  re- 
member I  lent  'em  to  you  that  morning 
when  you  'd  lost  yours  and  we  were  in 
a  hurry  to  get  off  to  school  ? ' ' 


Del's  Debt  113 

''Yes,  I  remember,"  called  Margaret 
across  Del's  room  from  her  own,  "but  I 
hunted  and  hunted  and  couldn't  find 
yours.  I  turned  the  place  upside  down 
and  they  were  nowhere  to  be  seen.  So  I 
didn't  borrow  'em  after  all  and  I 
thought  I  told  you  so. ' ' 

"No,  you  didn't.  And  you  did  bor- 
row 'em  too,"  insisted  May,  "for  I  re- 
member distinctly  noticing  'em  on  the 
way  down  to  the  train. ' ' 

"Those  were  my  own.  I  'd  just  made 
up  my  mind  to  wear  my  woolen  ones 
when  I  spied  those  tucked  away  on  the 
mantelpiece  behind  the  match-box.  I  'd 
put  'em  there  myself  and  forgotten  all 
about  'em!" 

' ' I  don't  want  to  contradict  you,  Marg, 
but  that  must  have  been  another  time. 
You  certainly  had  on  my  gloves  that 
morning,"  persisted  May. 

"I  tell  you  I  didn't,"  repeated  Mar- 
garet, beginning  to  grow  indignant. 

"And  the  reason  I  know,"  continued 
May,  ignoring  her  denial,  ' '  is  that  I  had 
tucked  a  dollar-bill  into  the  first  finger 
of  the  right-hand  glove  to  keep  it  safe 
the  last  time  I  wore  it  and  I  hadn't  my 


114  Del's  Debt 

purse  along.  I  meant  to  tell  you  that 
morning  not  to  lose  it  out  and  then  I  for- 
got." 

''Pooh,  that  does  n't  prove  anything," 
said  Margaret. 

*'It  does  too.  It  proves  you  wore  my 
gloves.  And  I  want  'em  back  right  now 
and  the  dollar  too." 

''You  can  come  in  here  and  see  that  all 
the  gray  gloves  I  have  in  the  world  are 
my  very  particular  own." 

"Pooh,  that  wouldn't  prove  any- 
thing. ' ' 

"It  would  too." 

"It  would  prove  that  you  'd  lost  mine 
that  morning,  dollar  and  all,  unless  you 
have  'em  there." 

"Well,  I  like  that!  What  's  the  mat- 
ter with  your  having  lost  'em  your  own 
self?" 

"I  didn't  lose  'em.  I  don't  lose  my 
things  half  so  much  as  you  do." 

"Why— ee!  May  Middlebrook!  As  if 
everybody  did  n't  know  you  're  the  care- 
lessest  thing  that  ever  lived." 

"I  'm  not  so  careless  as  you  are,  so 
there!" 

"You  just  ask  Del  if  you  are  n't." 


Del's  Debt  115 

"Pshaw!  Del  's  a  regular  Miss  Par- 
ticular Prim.  She  thinks  nobody  knows 
how  to  keep  their  things  in  order  but 
just  herself." 

''0  please,  May,  don't  say  that,"  pro- 
tested Del,  dismayed  at  being  dragged 
into  the  quarrel.  ' 'I  Ve  never  given  you 
any  reason  to  think  I  thought  so." 

"You  have  too.  Whenever  you  come 
into  my  room  your  eyebrows  go  up  and 
disappear  under  your  hair,  you  're  that 
shocked !  And  you  look  so  moral  and  or- 
derly I  'd  like  to  shake  you,  so  there!" 

"I  don't  think  you're  very  nice,  May, 
to  say  such  things.  Don't  you  mind  her, 
Del.  She  's  got  into  one  of  her  tantrums 
and  nothing  '11  suit  her  till  she  's  set  the 
whole  house  by  the  ears.  It  's  none  of 
her  business  anyway,  how  you  keep  your 
room." 

"No,  and  it  's  none  of  Del's  how  I 
keep  mine,"  snapped  May,  "and  it  's 
none  of  yours  to  mix  in  and  make 
trouble  when  your  opinion  isn't  asked. 
Now  hurry  up.  Hand  over  my  gloves 
and  let  me  go." 

"You  just  hint  again  that  I  don't  tell 
the   truth.   May   Middlebrook, "   panted 


116  Del's  Debt 

Margaret,  striding  forward  with  a  look 
in  her  eyes  that  Del  had  never  seen  there 
before,  ''and — and — yon  '11  be  sorry." 

''Pooh!  Pish!  Tush!  Fudge!"  ex- 
claimed May  with  an  exasperating  laugh. 
"You  had  my  gray  gloves  on  that  day, 
and  that  's  all  there  is  about  it." 

For  one  short  second  there  was  utter 
silence  in  the  room.  The  next  instant 
Margaret  had  caught  up  the  water- 
ewer,  and  the  next  May  was  standing  be- 
fore her  disheveled,  drenched  and  drip- 
ping from  head  to  foot.  But  she  did 
not  stand  so  long.  Her  breath  caught  in 
her  throat  in  a  great,  gulping  sob,  and 
then  she  made  a  furious  rush  at  her 
twin,  clutched  her  by  the  arm,  and  boxed 
her  ears  soundly. 

"0,  May,  May!  Don't!  Please  don't!" 
cried  Del,  running  forward  and  grasping 
May's  hand  to  stay  it. 

^'You  keep  out  of  this,"  cried  both  the 
twins  at  once,  hoarsely,  flinging  Del  back 
out  of  their  way  with  frantic  force. 

It  was  all  over  in  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  tell  it.  May  loosed  her  hold 
upon  her  sister's  arm  and  Margaret 
staggered  blindly  toward  the  threshold 


Del's  Debt  117 

and  to  her  own  room.  A  moment  later 
two  doors  slammed,  two  keys  turned, 
and  Del  found  herself  imprisoned  in  her 
bedchamber,  locked  in  by  a  twin  on 
either  side  of  her. 

At  first  there  was  no  sound  at  all  from 
right  or  left,  but  presently  May  began  to 
stride  back  and  forth  across  her  floor 
and  to  open  and  shut  her  bureau-drawers 
with  rough  pulls  and  impatient  pushes. 
Evidently  she  was  going  to  keep  her  en- 
gagement with  Sally  and  the  Vans  after 
all.  By  and  by  there  were  stirrings  in 
Margaret's  room,  which  showed  she  was 
going  to  do  the  same  thing.  Del  lay  still 
upon  her  couch,  where  she  had  dropped, 
a  wretched  heap  of  shocked  and  wound- 
ed misery,  when  the  twins  had  thrust  her 
off,  and  tried  to  fight  back  the  hot  tears 
and  strangling  sobs.  But  it  was  no  use. 
Now  that  the  awful  scene  was  over,  she 
could  do  nothing  but  weakly  cry  and  cry. 

The  great  door  down-stairs  opened  and 
shut  with  a  bang  that  shook  the  house. 
That  meant  May  had  gone.  Five  min- 
utes later  the  performance  was  repeated. 
Margaret  was  following  her.  Del  bur- 
rowed deeper  among  her  cushions  and 


118  Del's  Debt 

longed  for  her  mother.  Never  in  all  her 
life  before  had  she  felt  so  homesick,  so 
heart-sick,  so  absolutely  desolate.  It 
seemed  to  her  just  then  that  she  would 
willingly  give  up  all  this  pleasant  ease 
and  luxurious  way  of  living  and  go  gladly 
back  to  t]ie  old  wretched  poverty  and  de- 
privation again  for  just  one  little  chance 
to  tell  her  mother  all  about  it.  Mr.  Mid- 
dlebrook  had  been  wonderfully  kind  to 
her:  she  did  not  forget  that;  but,  after 
all,  he  was  not  her  very  own,  and  she 
could  never  confide  in  him  entirely  and 
open  all  her  heart  to  him  nor  ask  him  for 
advice  in  a  case  such  as  this.  Only  her 
mother  could  help  her  now,  and  her 
mother  was  not  here.  She  got  up  and 
gazed  hungrily  into  the  gentle,  pictured 
face  above  the  mantelpiece.  *'0,  Mam- 
mady!  Mammady!"  she  whispered  bro- 
kenly, *  *  I  want  you — I  want  you ! ' '  The 
longing  grew  so  great  that  it  was  like 
a  dull  ache  through  all  her  flesh,  and  at 
last  she  felt  she  must  cry  out  for  very 
pain  of  it,  but  she  bit  her  lips  to  keep 
them  from  quivering,  and  set  about 
searching  among  her  belongings  for 
something  her  mother  had  particularly 


Del's  Debt  119 

loved  and  used,  and  that  would  therefore 
seem  to  hold  most  memories  of  her. 
There  were  but  a  few  keepsakes  at  most, 
and  the  majority  of  them  she  did  not 
connect  especially  with  the  dear  ''Mam- 
mady"  and  their  life  together.  But  at 
last  Del  came  upon  a  book,  well-thumbed 
and  marked  all  through  with  pencilled 
jottings,  that  she  remembered  to  have 
seen  her  mother  reading  time  and  time 
again,  and  that  recalled  her  so  vividly 
to  mind  it  made  her  heart  beat  quick  with 
happiness.  She  took  it  up  and  held  it 
to  her  lovingly.  Then  she  opened  it  and 
fingered  the  pages  over  and  over,  as  if 
by  touching  them  she  could  touch  the 
gentle  hands  that  had  so  often  turned 
them  in  the  days  gone  by.  It  was  a  real 
comfort  to  do  this,  and  it  was  a  comfort, 
too,  to  read  over  some  of  the  passages 
that  were  pencil-marked  and  that  her 
mother  had  evidently  thought  particu- 
larly wise.  At  first  she  hardly  under- 
stood what  she  was  reading:  she  fol- 
lowed the  words  without  in  the  least  tak- 
ing in  their  meaning.  But  all  at  once  her 
eyes  fastened  upon  a  paragraph  that 
somehow   held  her   attention   fast   and 


120  Del's  Debt 

made  lier  feel  as  if  her  mother  were 
speaking  to  her  through  the  words,  giv- 
ing her  the  counsel  she  had  longed  for. 

''If  your  friend  has  displeased  you, 
you  shall  not  sit  down  to  consider  it, 
for  he  has  already  lost  all  memory  of 
the  passage  and  has  doubled  his  power 
to  serve  you,  and,  ere  you  can  rise  up 
again,  will  burden  you  with  blessings. ' ' 

Over  and  over  she  read  it,  and  each 
time  she  did  so  she  seemed  to  understand 
it  better.  ''It  means  May  and  Marga- 
ret," she  cried  to  herself  aloud,  at  last. 
' '  It  means  I  'm  not  to  sit  down  and  con- 
sider how  they  Ve  displeased  me.  0,  I 
know,  I  know !  I  know  that  's  just  what 
Mammady  would  tell  me  if  she  were 
here.  And  I  mean  to  do  just  as  it  says 
and  what  she  'd  want  me  to.  I  mean  to 
stop  moping  this  minute  and  set  about 
being  sensible  and  right,  and  the  next 
time  I  get  lost  in  a  tangle  I  'm  going  to 
find  my  way  out  of  it  by  following  the 
marks  she  's  left  here  in  these  essays, 
and  that  I  'm  as  certain  as  can  be  will 
help  me  back  home  just  as  the  bread- 
crumbs did  Hansel  and  Gretel  when  they 
were  lost  in  the  woods." 


Del's  Debt  121 

The  idea  amused  lier  immensely,  and 
she  hugged  the  book  to  her  as  if  it  had 
been  a  living  friend. 

The  days  were  beginning  to  lengthen, 
and  at  five  o'clock  it  was  still  bright  and 
light  outside.  Del  busied  herself  first 
with  one  thing  and  then  another,  grow- 
ing every  moment  more  cheerful  and 
light-hearted  until,  as  the  clock  struck 
five,  she  decided  it  was  time  to  dress  so 
she  would  be  all  ready  and  waiting  when 
the  twins  and  Daddy  should  come  home. 
She  took  out  her  favorite  afternoon 
frock  and  arranged  her  hair  with  partic- 
ular care.  She  wanted  to  look  her  best  as 
well  as  he  her  best,  so  that  the  girls 
would  know  at  once  she  was  not  moping 
and  nursing  a  grievance.  But  when  she 
had  slipped  on  her  dress  she  came  to 
a  sudden  standstill.  She  could  not 
hook  it  up  the  back  herself,  and  when  she 
went  to  the  door  to  call  Christine,  she 
found  she  was  locked  in  fast  and  tight. 

''What  a  pickle!"  she  laughed.  "They 
may  not  come  back  until  half-past  six. 
They  always  stay  out  till  the  last  minute, 
and  how  in  the  world  am  I  ever  going 


122  Del's  Debt 

to  make  Christine  hear,  so  she  can  come 
and  let  me  out?" 

She  knew  it  was  useless  to  rattle  the 
door-knobs,  but  nevertheless  she  rattled 
them.  Then  suddenly  a  bright  idea 
struck  her.  ''I  '11  climb  up  on  top  of 
my  table  and  call  through  the  transom. ' ' 

It  was  rather  a  lark,  this  being  locked 
in  so,  and  having  to  maneuver  and  plan 
to  escape.  She  swept  the  things  off  her 
table,  dragged  it  to  May's  door,  and 
mounted.  But,  tiptoe  as  she  might  and 
strain  upward  as  she  would,  she  could 
not  quite  bring  her  eyes  on  a  level  with 
the  glass.  So  down  she  scrambled,  got  a 
hassock  and  some  heavy  books,  piled 
them  into  a  solid  heap  on  top  of  the  table, 
and  carefully  mounted  her  pedestal 
again.  Yes,  now  she  could  see  to  her 
heart's  content.  There  were  May's 
school-books  scattered  on  the  floor  by 
the  window,  just  where  she  had  dropped 
them  a  few  hours  ago.  There  were  her 
morning-dress  and  her  hat,  thrown  pell- 
mell  together  on  the  bed.  Shoes  were 
here,  mittens  there :  her  pin-tray  had  fal- 
len from  her  bureau  and  all  the  pins  lay 
scattered  over  the  rug.     Her  writing- 


NOW  SHE  COULD  SEE  TO  HER  HEART  S  CONTENT. 


(123) 


Del's  Debt  125 

desk  near  the  French  window  opening  on 
the  balcony  stood  just  as  she  had  left  it, 
open  and  strewn  with  a  confusion  of 
note-paper  and  nuts,  soap  and  silver, 
while  in  the  midst  of  it  all  the  tiny  spirit- 
lamp  she  used  to  melt  her  sealing-wax 
burned  cheerfully  on,  quite  regardless  of 
the  fact  that  the  window-curtain  was 
perilously  near  it  and  that  at  any  mo- 
ment— 

A  terrifying  thought  sprang  into  Del 's 
brain  and  brought  the  blood  to  her  heart 
in  a  great  throb  of  horror.  What  if  the 
draught  from  the  window  should  send 
the  curtain  a  half-inch  nearer  the  lamp. 
Tlie  rest  of  the  household  would  not 
know  until  it  was  too  late  and  sbe,  Del, 
locked  in  as  she  was,  could  not  give  the 
alarm.  Frantically  she  tugged  and 
tugged  at  the  frame  of  the  transom, 
meaning  perhaps  to  drag  it  out  and 
crawl  through.  But  it  would  not  stir. 
She  called  to  Christine,  to  Mrs.  Austen. 
No  one  heard.  Then,  as  if  her  thought 
had  somehow  got  outside  her  and  become 
an  actual  thing,  she  saw  the  curtain 
gently  swell  forward  in  the  puff  of  the 
draught  from  the  window ;  the  tiny  flame 

9  —  Del's  Debt 


126  Del's  Debt 

from  the  spirit-lamp  leaped  gaily  up  to 
meet  it,  and  then,  the  next  instant,  a  slen- 
der thread  of  fire  was  crawling  up,  up, 
and  up  the  hanging,  growing,  growing  as 
it  climbed. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Never  before  in  all  their  lives  together 
had  matters  between  the  twins  come  to 
such  a  pass  as  this.  They  had  had  dif- 
ferences, to  be  sure,  plenty  of  them, 
when  quick  words  had  slipped  out  tliat 
ought  to  have  been  kept  in,  and  angry 
looks  leaped  from  one  to  the  other  like 
sudden  glares  of  electricity  in  a  stormy 
heaven.  But  though  the  thunder  had 
rolled  and  the  lightning  flashed,  no  great 
damage  had  been  done  hitherto,  and  the 
rain  that  had  frequently  followed  had 
cleared  the  air  and  left  the  sky  serene. 
But  this  time  it  was  different.  Something 
had  been  wrecked,  and  the  girls  knew, 
that  no  matter  how  soon  they  **made 
up"  neither  of  them  would  ever  forget 
the  disgrace  of  the  thought  that  in  their 


DePs  Debt  127 

anger    tliey    liad    raised    tlieir    hands 
against  each  other. 

Margaret,  smarting  and  sullen,  brood- 
ed over  her  wrongs  behind  her  locked 
doors  until  she  could  endure  her  wretch- 
edness no  longer,  and  flung  on  her  things 
in  desperation  to  take  refuge  out  of 
doors;  while  May,  drenched  and  discon- 
solate, sat  down  in  the  midst  of  the  litter 
on  her  floor  and  thought  grim  thoughts 
until  the  wetness  about  her  shoulders 
struck  through  with  a  chill  and  made  her 
hurry  to  change  her  clothing. 

''As  long  as  I  'm  about  it,"  she  mut- 
tered miserably  to  herself,  **I  may  as 
well  go  on  to  the  pond.  Leonard  and 
Clare  aren't  to  blame  because  we've 
had  ructions  here,  and  I  've  no  right  to 
go  back  on  my  word  to  them.  But  the 
fun  's  all  spoiled  and  I  don't  s'pose  I  '11 
ever  feel  like  having  a  good  time  again 
so  long  as  I  live." 

"Hullo,  there,  May!  What's  up?" 
shouted  Leonard  as  soon  as  she  came 
in  sight.  *'How  late  you  are!  I  began 
to  think  you  were  n't  coming  at  all." 

'*0,  I  couldn't  very  well  get  here 
sooner,"    she    called.    "Circumstances 


128  Del's  Debt 

over  which  I  had  no  control,  von  know, 
and  that  sort  of  thing." 

*'I  see.  Don't  try  to  put  on  your 
skates  yourself.  That  's  my  business. 
Hi!  Here  comes  Marg.  You  two  run- 
ning tandem  like  this  is  a  new  freak, 
isn't  it?  You  generally  go  in  double 
harness." 

May  did  not  reply,  or  if  she  did  Leon- 
ard did  not  hear,  for  as  soon  as  her 
skates  were  fastened,  she  struck  out  for 
the  middle  of  the  pond  without  waiting 
for  him  to  follow,  and  by  the  time  he 
had  made  Margaret  ready  for  the  ice, 
she  was  far  away  chattering  and  chaffing 
with  Clare,  Sally,  and  a  crowd  of  others. 

''Come  on,  Marg,"  said  Leonard,  hid- 
ing his  surprise  and  disappointment, 
''let 's  have  a  spin,  and  then  I  '11  show 
you  how  to  do  the  serpentine,  if  you  like. 
You  know  you  wanted  to  learn,  and 
there  's  no  time  like  the  present." 

Margaret  laughed  bitterly.  "Thank 
goodness  there  is  n't,"  she  said  with  em- 
phasis. 

Leonard  noticed  that  her  face  was  pale 
and  set,  and  when  she  shook  her  head  and 
continued  with   an   effort,   "No,   thank 


Del's  Debt  129 

you,  Leonard,  not  to-day;  I — I  don't 
feel  like  it,  somehow,"  lie  put  two  and 
two  together  and  concluded  that  decided- 
ly something  was  ''up"  between  the 
twins.  He  kept  a  sharp  eye  on  the  two 
after  that  and  saw  that  they  intentional- 
ly avoided  each  other,  and  only  came  into 
the  same  neighborhood  when  it  was  im- 
possible to  escape  it. 

''Here  's  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish,"  he 
said  to  himself.  "I  've  never  known  any- 
thing like  it  to  happen  before.  I  wonder 
now  if  the  new  member  of  the  family  can 
be  a  mischief-maker.  If  she  is,  I  '11  feel 
like  scalping  her.  It  would  be  an  up-and- 
down  shame  to  stir  up  strife  between  the 
twins :  such  good  chums  as  they  've  al- 
ways been !  And  if  Del 's  done  it,  some- 
one ought  to  shake  her  soundly."  He 
looked  for  the  moment  so  much  as  if  he 
would  enjoy  being  the  one  himself  that 
May,  who  happened  to  be  looking  his 
way,  said: 

' '  I  hope  you  are  n  't  making  that 
square  mouth  at  me,  Len.  When  you  set 
your  jaws  so,  I  always  know  it  's  time 
for  some  one  to  shake  in  his  shoes,  and 
I  'm»  always  afraid  it  's  my  turn. ' ' 


130  Del's  Debt 

Leonard  laughed.  "No;  you  have 
still  to  look  forward  to  the  honor.  But 
you  're  right  about  one  tiling.  I  am 
down  on  somebody." 

*'Are  you  telling  who  it  is?'* 

*'I  've  no  objection.  It  's  the  person 
that  's  been  making  trouble  between  you 
and  Marg,"  he  blurted  out  bluntly. 

For  a  moment  May  stared  at  him,  sur- 
prised out  of  her  self-possession.  Then 
suddenly  she  gave  a  curious  little  laugh. 
*  *  Well  then,  I  am  in  for  it,  after  all, ' '  she 
said  whimsically.  **I  know  what  you 
think.  You  think  it  's  Del.  But  it  is  n't. 
She  's  had  nothing  to  do  with  it — really. 
I  'm  the  sinner.  I  started  the  whole  con- 
flagration and  then  I — was  mad  because 
Margaret  tried  to  play  fire-brigade  and 
poured  on  water. ' ' 

Leonard's  lips  twitched.  "I  don't 
know,  for  the  life  of  me,  whether  you  're 
in  fun  or  dead  earnest." 

*'0,  dead  earnest.  'I  killed  Cock 
Robin,  with  my  bow  and  arrow,  I,  said 
the  sparrow.*  I'm  sorry,  but  that 's  the 
truth  of  it." 

**Well,  I  hope  you  're  sorry  enough 
to  try  to  bring  him  to  life  again. " 


Del's  Debt  131 

''Yes,  I  'm  sorry  enough.  The  ques- 
tion is  whether  he  '11  come.  He  's  dead 
— mad,  and  when  he  's  that  way — 
well —  He  's  going  off  home  now,  and 
if  I  know  anything  about  the  set  of  his 
shoulders  he  doesn't  want  to  be  inter- 
fered with. ' ' 

Leonard's  eyes,  foil  owing  the  direction 
of  May's,  saw  Margaret  plodding  away 
up  the  hill,  stubbornly,  stolidly,  and 
alone. 

''Think  I  'd  better  venture  to  catch  up 
with  her?"  asked  May. 

"0,  yes.  Just  for  company,  you 
know,"  he  answered  with  an  approving 
nod,  and  the  twinkle  in  his  eye  that  she 
always  liked  to  bring  there. 

With  a  flourish  of  her  hand  in  good- 
by,  she  left  him  and  sped  across  the  hard 
ground  in  the  path  Margaret  was  taking. 
Her  twin  heard  her  coming  but  did  not 
turn  her  head,  and  May  could  not  help 
slowing  up  a  bit  before  they  were  quite 
side  by  side,  for  it  was  going  to  be  hard- 
er than  she  had  expected  to  be  the  first 
to  say  "Forgive  and  forget,"  and  she 
saw  no  signs  of  softening  on  Margaret's 
part.    But  Margaret  was  having  her  own 


132  DePs  Debt 

private  and  particular  tussle  with  her- 
self, and  had  not  quite  conquered.  She 
really  wanted  to  ''make  up"  as  much  as 
May  did,  but  the  smouldering  fire  of  her 
temper  was  much  harder  to  quench  than 
the  quick,  short  flame  of  May's,  and  to- 
day she  had  no  tears  to  wash  away  the 
embers  with.  So  they  tramped  on  in 
dreary  silence,  while  the  light  died  out 
of  the  sky  and  the  evening  air  grew  raw 
and  chill.  The  girls  shuddered  a  little 
as  the  bleak  wind  struck  them,  and  hur- 
ried on  faster  toward  home,  which  was 
now  plainly  in  sight.  It  stood,  dark 
and  gray,  against  the  grayer  sky.  Only 
one  window  on  the  side  facing  them  was 
alight,  and  that,  somehow,  seemed  to 
glare  out  at  the  world  like  a  furious 
fiery  eye.  Suddenly  the  girls  stopjled 
stock-still  with  their  gaze  fixed  upon  it 
in  wonder  that  changed  to  anxiety,  and 
then  to  terror. 

The  fiery  eye  grew  redder  and  more 
inflamed.  A  thousand  darting,  leaping 
lights  seemed  to  quiver  through  it. 

''What  does  it  mean?"  gasped  Mar- 
garet breathlessly,  forgetting  everything 
in  her  panic. 


Del's  Debt  133 

''Fire !"  shouted  May,  starting  to  run. 
''The  house  is  on  fire.  It  's  my  room, 
don't  you  seel  0,  why  doesn't  some- 
body save  it.  Why  doesn't  somebody 
put  it  out?" 

Margaret  sobbed  and  wrung  her  hands 
in  anguish.  But  as  if  in  answer  to  May's 
questions,  a  dark  shadow  appeared  at 
the  window  next  the  flaming  one — Del's 
window. 

The  twins  raced  on  breathless  and 
panting,  but  all  of  a  sudden  they  stopped 
and  stood  as  if  they  were  rooted  to  the 
ground — for  out  of  Del's  window  crept 
a  little  figure,  black  against  the  orange 
of  the  glaring  background.  It  crawled 
slowly  to  the  ledge  and  then  let  itself 
gradually  down,  down,  down,  till  it  hung 
there  at  the  dizzy  height,  held  only  by 
its  hands. 

May  was  simply  dumb  with  horror,  but 
Margaret  screamed  and  screamed,  too 
frantic  from  fright  to  know  what  she 
was  doing. 

"Hush!  Be  still!"  gasped  May,  com- 
mandingly,  her  eyes  glued  to  the  awful 
vision.     "Don't  you  see — she  's  trying 


134  Del's  Debt 

to  get  her  feet  on  the  waste-pipe  1    If  you 
scare  her  she  '11  fall," 

It  seemed  ages  to  the  girls,  watching 
below,  before  Del's  feet  actually  touched 
the  pipe,  and  then  ages  again  while  she 
inched  her  way  slowly,  slowly,  slowly 
along  it  toward  the  jut  of  the  balcony 
just  beyond. 

"She  's  going  to  fall! — She  's  going 
to  fall!"  shrieked  Margaret.  ''Don't 
you  see,  she  's  too  little?  Her  arm  won't 
reach  the  railing?" 

"Hush,  hush,  I  say!  Yes,  it  will  too. 
She  's  let  go  one  hand,  so  she  can  feel 
for  the  post.  No,  no!  It  's  not  there, 
Dellie!  It  's  a  little  further  along!  Now, 
now,  you've  got  it!"  gasped  May  era- 
zily.  "Her  foot's  on  the  ledge  now. 
She  's  safe !    She  's  safe ! ' ' 

One  second  more  and  the  little  dark 
figure  had  clutched  the  railing  and  scaled 
it.  Another  and  she  was  on  the  balcony. 
The  French  window  opened  from  the  in 
side,  but  May  had  forgotten  to  lock  it, 
and  as  Del  flung  her  weight  against  the 
frame,  it  gave  way  with  a  crash. 

*  *  She  's  tearing  the  curtains  down ! — 


Del's  Debt  135 

She  's  tearing  tliem  down!"  shrieked 
Margaret,  sobbing  wildly. 

*'And  throwing  them  out,"  panted 
May. 

With  one  accord  the  girls  dashed  for- 
ward, and  their  cries  of  ''Fire!  Fire!" 
late  as  they  were,  brought  Martin, 
Michael,  and  the  others  to  the  rescue  in 
a  moment. 

Meanwhile  Del  tore  away  at  the  burn- 
ing hangings  like  a  frenzied  thing.  The 
fire  seemed  to  her  like  an  infuriated 
beast,  and  she  grappled  with  it  savagely, 
strangling  it,  choking  it,  and  stamping 
its  life  out,  with  a  sort  of  wild  exultation. 
She  did  not  realize  that  her  hair  was 
singed  and  her  hands  scorched.  All  she 
thought  of  or  cared  about  was  the  cruel, 
brutal  thing  that  was  trying  to  overcome 
her  and  injure  those  she  loved.  She 
must  crush  it  out  and  kill  it  before  it 
succeeded. 

The  worst  of  it  was  over  by  the  time 
the  men  appeared  with  hose  and  buckets 
and  set  about  flooding  May's  pretty 
room  until  it  looked  like  a  soaked  wreck 
of  itself.  It  made  Del's  eyes  flash  to 
see   her   enemy   spurt   out   steam,   hiss 


136  DePs  Debt 

viciously  as  the  strong  stream  hit  it,  and 
then  die  weakly  down.  But  no  one  was 
really  satisfied  it  would  not  leap  up 
again  until  they  had  proved  every  spark 
of  life  was  absolutely  gone. 

Mr.  Middlebrook  reached  home  to  find 
his  house  in  confusion  and  to  learn  how 
close  he  had  come  to  having  no  house  at 
all.  Christine  was  fairly  in  hysterics, 
and  Mrs.  viusten  looked  as  if  she  might 
have  a  fit  of  apoplexy  at  any  moment. 
The  twins  were  wild-eyed  as  Indians  on 
the  war-path,  while  Del,  in  her  scorched 
dress,  with  her  singed  hair  and  blistered 
hands,  was  in  even  more  desperate  case 
than  they. 

''But  what  T  want  to  know,"  Margaret 
demanded  of  Del,  ''is  why  under  the  sun 
you  did  that  awful  acrobat-stunt  out  of 
the  window.  What  in  the  world  ailed 
you  ?  I  think  you  must  have  been  crazy 
— sheer  crazy,  to  try  it." 

*'I  was,"  admitted  Del.  "But  all  the 
same,  there  was  nothing  else  to  do. 
There  was  no  other  way  out  of  it — my 
room,  I  mean.  You  see,  you  both  locked 
me  in." 

For  a  moment  the  twins  stared  at  her 


Del's  Debt  137 

in  blank  amazement.  ''Great  Scott!" 
was  all  they  found  to  say,  and  then,  with- 
out any  cause  whatever,  all  three  of 
them  burst  into  an  uncontrollable  fit  of 
laughing,  and  laughed  and  laughed  until, 
to  their  surprise,  they  found  themselves 
crying  as  well,  after  which  they  felt  bet- 
ter and  could  behave  like  sensible  beings 
again„ 

"I  tell  you  what  it  is,  girls,"  said 
Margaret,  catching  her  breath  in  a  heroic 
gulp  of  determination,  "I  want  to  tell 
you  both  that  I  'm  out  and  out  sorry  for 
being  such  a  hateful  thing  this  afternoon 
and  making  such  a  horrid  scene.  I 
s'pose  it  won't  do  much  good  to  say  I  '11 
try  never  to  do  so  again,  but  I  will  try, 
honest  and  truly." 

''I  was  really  to  blame,"  admitted 
May  stoutly.  ''I  began  to  wrangle  first. 
I  'm  just  abominable  sometimes,  I  know, 
only  please  give  me  another  chance  and 
let  me  try  again." 

Del  was  the  only  one  who  was  dumb, 
and  that  was  because,  when  she  tried  to 
say  her  say,  she  found  herself  gently 
gagged  from  behind,  and  the  twins  cried 
out  together  as  they  held  her:  ''Hush! 


138  Del's  Debt 

you  can't  have  a  share  in  tliis.  If  you  'd 
been  as  wicked  as  could  be,  which  of 
course  you  weren't  at  all,  what  you  've 
done  for  us  this  evening  would  have 
wiped  it  all  out.  Now,  don't  let  's  ever, 
ever,  ever  again  talk  of  what  's  hap- 
pened. ' ' 

And  they  never  did.  Not  even  when, 
in  the  general  upheaval  of  May's  room 
for  repairs,  her  missing  gloves  were 
found  tucked  away  out  of  sight,  with 
the  dollar-bill  safe  and  sound  in  the 
right-hand  forefinger,  just  as  she  re- 
membered, at  last,  to  have  put  it,  be- 
cause she  wanted  to  make  especially  sure 
she  would  know  where  to  place  her  hand 
on  the  money  when  she  wanted  it. 

Weeks  passed  before  Del's  wounds 
were  thoroughly  healed,  and  in  the  mean- 
time spring  had  arrived,  and  the 
weather  was  growing  sweet  and  mild. 
The  daily  trip  into  the  city  was  more  fun 
now  than  anything  else,  and  when  school 
was  done  there  were  always  several 
hours  of  clear  daylight  left  in  which  one 
could  drive,  ride,  or  tramp  about  the 
country  to  one's  heart's  content.  Easter 
came,  and  with  it  Leonard  Van  Ness, 


Del's  Debt  139 

bringing  a  couple  of  liis  college  friends 
with  him  as  guests. 

*'One  of  them  's  real  nice,"  confided 
Clare  to  the  girls  the  morning  after  they 
arrived.  ''His  name  is  White,  Robert 
White,  but  they  call  him  Quail,  and  I 
don't  care  if  he  isn't  so  good-looking 
as  the  other  one,  Mr.  F.  Creighton  Cart- 
wright,  he  's  lots  pleasanter  and  more 
natural.  Mr.  F.  Creighton  Cartwright 
(they  call  him  Cracar)  holds  his  chin  in 
the  air  and  looks  down  the  bridge  of  his 
nose  when  he  looks  at  you  at  all,  and 
somehow  it  makes  me  mad.  I  s'pose  he 
thinks  I  'm  nothing  but  a  little  girl,  and 
it  is  n't  worth  while  wasting  good  man- 
ners on  me,  but  I  'd  like  to  show  him 
that  even  a  little  girl  knows  a  real  gen- 
tleman when  she  sees  one,  so  there!" 

''What  does  Leonard  ask  him  here 
for  ? ' '  enquired  Margaret.  ' '  I  should  n  't 
think  he  'd  have  any  use  for  a  person 
like  that." 

"0,  Len  and  Robert  White  seem  to 
think  he  's  all  right,"  replied  Clare. 
' '  They  say  he  's  troubled  with  'big  head,' 
but  that  's  because  he  's  been  spoilt  at 
home.    They  say  he  's  'square  as  a  die,' 


140  Del's  Debt 

really,  and  would  be  an  out-and-out  fine 
fellow  if  he  hadn't  always  had  so  much 
money  and  been  made  to  feel  he  was  the 
One-and-Only.  But  just  the  same,  I  don't 
like  him,  and  I  don't  believe  you  will." 

''Pooh!"  exclaimed  May,  with  a  curl 
of  her  lip.  ' '  If  he  's  that  kind  of  person 
he  is  n  't  worth  bothering  about  I 
wouldn't  take  the  trouble  to  dislike 
him. ' ' 

** Mother  used  to  say,"  said  Del  shyly, 
''that  a  person  only  pays  his  way  in  tlie 
world  when  he  gives  everybody,  no  mat- 
ter who  it  is,  a  perfect  courtesy.  She 
used  to  say  that  each  person  we  meet 
has  a  claim  on  us  for  courteous  treat- 
ment, and  if  we  don't  pay  it  we're  not 
paying  our  debts,  that  's  all." 

"0,  come  on  out,  girls,"  May  cried, 
"and  let  's  get  Lightfoot  and  the  cart 
and  go  down  Main  Street.  I  'm  dying 
for  some  butter-scotch." 

Now  Lightfoot  was  as  reliable  a  horse 
as  could  well  be  imagined,  but  he  was 
not  fond  of  pulling  overweight  in  the 
tilty,  two-wheeled  cart.  The  girls  crowd- 
ed in  pell-mell.  Margaret,  who  happened 
to    have    the    place    of    driver    to-day, 


Del's  Debt  141 

snapped  her  whip  in  the  air,  and  Light- 
foot  started  ot¥  with  a  protesting  fiing  of 
the  head,  as  much  as  to  say,  "I  '11  go, 
of  course,  but  you  're  not  playing  fair, 
remember,  and  so,  if  I  'm  nervous  on 
the  road,  please  recollect  it  's  your  own 
fault.  You  should  take  the  other  trap 
and  let  me  have  Rowdy  to  help  pull." 

"Steady,  Lightfoot,  steady,"  com- 
manded Margaret,  as  he  started,  pricked 
up  his  ears,  and  broke  into  a  sharp, 
brisk  pace  as  they  turned  out  of  the  gate- 
way into  the  road. 

Their  way  lay  downhill,  the  air  was 
fresh  and  bracing,  and  Lightfoot  posted 
on  with  his  merry,  giggling  load  behind 
him,  frisking  his  tail  and  feeling  gen- 
erally a  little  ' '  woild-loike, "  as  Martin 
described  it. 

"I  s'pose  those  are  the  kids  Leonard 
was  telling  us  about  last  night,"  mused 
Mr.  F.  Creighton  Cartwright,  as  he  spied 
them  ahead  of  him  from  far  off,  and  ped- 
alled his  bicycle  forward  in  a  quick  spurt 
to  get  a  nearer  view. 

''Guy,  wouldn't  it  be  sport  to  take 
a  rise  out  of  them,  though!  A  fellow 
needs  some  excitement  in  such  a  dull  hole 

10  — Del's  Debt 


142  Bel's  Debt 

as  this,  and  it  would  be  funny  to  hear  the 
kids  scream." 

A  moment  later  he  was  stealing  noise- 
lessly up  behind  them,  pedalling  with  all 
his  might.  Just  as  he  got  abreast  of 
the  cart,  he  sounded  a  loud,  hoarse  note 
on  his  fog-horn  alarm,  and  then  shot 
past,  dashing  close  beside  Lightfoot  and 
coasting  downhill  like  a  streak  of  light- 
ning. 

The  horse  gave  a  quick,  startled  toss 
of  his  head,  tried  to  turn  out  with  the 
instinct  to  avoid  another  wheel,  should 
there  be  one  following,  and  then,  taking 
his  bit  between  his  teeth,  bolted  madly 
forward  and  pounded  on  toward  the  rail- 
road-crossing like  a  crazed  thing. 


CHAPTER  IX 

The  *'kids"  did  not  scream.  Instead 
they  huddled  back  breathless  in  the  cart, 
trying  to  make  themselves  as  small  as 
possible,  to  give  Margaret  room  to  brace 
her  feet,  so  she  might  get  power  on  the 
reins.  Her  face  was  set  and  white,  and 
her  shoulders  were  strained  back  so  far 


Del's  Debt  14-5 

she  was  fairly  lying  upon  the  others. 
''Steady,  Lightfoot,  steady!"  she  called 
and  called  again,  while  she  wound  the 
reins  about  her  hands  and  strained  back 
with  redoubled  force.  At  the  base  of 
the  hill  the  road  turned  off  to  cross  the 
railroad-track.  Margaret,  looking  ahead 
with  staring  eyes,  saw  a  faint  puff  of 
smoke  rise  like  a  gray  cloud  beyond  the 
grade.  Her  lips  grew  ash-colored,  and 
she  pulled  on  Lightfoot  with  a  strength 
she  did  not  know  she  possessed. 

Cracar  had  not  foreseen  such  a  result 
as  this.  He  had  meant  to  scare  the  girls, 
but  that  the  horse  might  be  seriously 
frightened  had  not  occurred  to  him. 
When  his  wheel  came  to  a  stop  at  last 
in  a  shady  little  side  road  off  the  beaten 
track,  and  he  dismounted  and  looked 
back,  the  sight  that  met  his  eyes  fairly 
stiffened  liis  blood  in  his  veins.  He 
would  have  rushed  down  to  their  rescue, 
but  one  glance  was  enough  to  prove  to 
him  that  it  would  be  useless. 
"Steady,  Lightfoot,  steady!" 
''You  can't  do  it,  Marg.  We  must 
jump ! ' '  whispered  May  hoarsely. 


144  Del's  Debt 

''Steady,  Liglitfoot,  steady,"  panted 
Margaret, 

Her  eyes  were  glazed,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  her  teeth  were  biting  through  her 
under  lip.  Clare  and  Del  shrank  back 
from  her  and  looked  at  May  for  orders, 
but  for  once  May  was  dumb  and  Mar- 
garet was  commander. 

"Jump!"  she  said,  so  low  they  hardly 
heard.  But  the  next  instant  they  had 
obeyed  her,  and  she  was  alone  in  the 
lightened  cart,  standing  like  a  young 
charioteer  with  a  look  of  iron  determina- 
tion on  her  face. 

The  whistle  of  the  train  was  in  her 
ears,  sounding  nearer  and  nearer  every 
second.  The  track  was  directly  before 
her  and  still  Lightfoot  would  not  stop. 

Suddenly  her  right  hand  shot  out  to- 
ward the  whip-socket,  grasped  the  whip, 
and  sent  its  lash,  in  one  fierce  cut, 
straight  across  the  horse's  haunches. 

"Go,  then!"  she  said  between  her  set 
teeth. 

The  cart  cleared  the  rails  in  a  bound, 
the  train  swept  thundering  by,  and,  with 
one  last  frantic  death-grip  on  the  reins, 
Margaret  lost  herself  in  a  heavy  gray 


(145) 


Del's  Debt  147 

fog  that  fell  suddenly  before  her  eyes 
and  shut  out  the  rest  of  the  world  from 
her. 

'*0,  Marg,  Marg!  How  could  you? 
Why  did  you?  I  thought  you  'd  jump 
too,  or  I  'd  never  have  left  you,"  she 
heard  some  one's  voice  murmuring  to 
her  through  the  mist. 

"We  thought  you  'd  be  killed,"  panted 
another. 

"It  was  the  greatest  wonder  you 
weren't!"  cried  a  third. 

Then,  as  suddenly  as  it  had  fallen, 
the  gray  fog  lifted  and  Margaret  found 
herself  huddled  in  the  bottom  of  the 
cart,  Lightfoot  breathing  hard,  but 
standing  quietly  enough  by  the  roadside, 
and  the  three  girls  clustered  about  the 
wheels,  trembling  and  shaken  with  ex- 
citement. 

"What  under  the  sun  did  you  take 
such  a  risk  for  1 ' '  demanded  May  almost 
fiercely.    ' '  It  was  simply  crazy. ' ' 

Margaret  gathered  herself  up  and  sat 
back  in  the  cart,  weakly  staring  at  Light- 
foot 's  heaving  sides.  "Well,  you  know," 
she  explained  deliberately,  "if  I  hadn't, 
Lightfoot  would  have  been  killed.     At 


148  Del's  Debt 

first  I  meant  to  jump.  And  then  I 
thought,  *PIe  '11  be  killed  if  I  do,'  and  so 
—I  just  didn't." 

'^1  guess,"  said  Clare,  after  they  had 
talked  off  the  first  shock,  *'I  guess  I  '11 
walk  back  home.  I  'm  afraid  four  in  the 
cart  weighs  down  the  shafts  and  makes 
Lightfoot  nervous." 

As  May  did  not  attempt  to  dissuade 
her,  she  and  Del  joined  company  and 
tramped  together,  being  glad  to  leave  the 
twins  alone  to  "have  it  out  by  them- 
selves." 

They  found  Leonard  and  his  two 
friends  camped  out  on  the  veranda  wait- 
ing for  them.  By  common  consent  the 
girls  had  arranged  that  nothing  was  to 
be  said  of  the  runaway. 

"You  see,"  May  explained  to  the 
other  three, '  *  Martin  never  likes  us  to  go 
four  in  the  cart,  and  he  'd  say  right  off 
it  was  our  own  fault  for  making  Light- 
foot  uncomfortable.  But  it  really  was 
that  horrid  wheelman.  0,  I  wish  I  'd 
had  time  to  see  who  he  was.  I  just  tell 
you  I  'd  like  to  know.  He  had  no  right 
to  do  what  he  did.  He  intended  to 
scare  Lightfoot, ' ' 


Del's  Debt  149 

^' Seems  to  me,"  said  Leonard  after 
he  had  introduced  his  friends,  ''you  girls 
are  mighty  enterprising  this  morning,  up 
and  out  so  early.  Now  we  fellows  have 
been  taking  things  easy.  You  see  a  man 
needs  repose  after  his  '  strenuous  life '  of 
application  at  college." 

''Application  to  what?"  asked  May 
with  a  twinkle  of  her  eye. 

''O — to  our  books,  of  course,"  put  in 
Robert  White  promptly.  ''You  see  be- 
fore you  now  the  three  bright  particular 
stars  of  the  U.  Modesty  forbids  me  to 
say  which  comes  first,  but  Van  and  Cra- 
car  run  close  seconds.  So,  is  n't  it,  Cra- 
car?" 

Mr.  F.  Creighton  Cartwright  relaxed 
enough  to  wink  solemnly,  and  then  re- 
turned to  his  business  of  deliberately 
staring  at  the  girls  each  in  turn,  "down 
the  bridge  of  his  nose,"  as  Clare  had  de- 
scribed it. 

' '  Have  n  't  any  of  you  been  out  at  all  ?  " 
asked  Margaret,  directing  her  question 
to  Leonard,  a  sudden  idea  popping  into 
her  brain. 

"No,"  he  answered  promptly;  "that 
is,  Quail  and  I  have  been  meditating  most 


150  Del's  Debt 

of  the  morning,  but  now  I  come  to  think 
of  it,  Cracar  did  desert  us  for  a  while. 
By  the  way,  what  were  you  up  to,  Cra- 
car? Let  's  have  it !  Out  with  it !  The 
truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but 
the  truth." 

''Well,  if  I  'm  on  the  stand,"  replied 
Mr.  F.  Creighton  Cartwright  with  a 
flush,  ''I  went  down  to  the  shore." 

''You  didn't  happen  to  ride  Len 's 
wheel,  did  you!"  asked  Margaret,  fixing 
her  eyes  on  his  squarely  with  a  direct  ac- 
cusation in  her  gaze. 

The  young  fellow  paused,  opened  his 
lips,  saw  the  look  in  her  eyes,  and  set 
his  jaws  squarely. 

' '  By  Jove ! "  he  thought  with  rising  re- 
sentment, "I  was  going  to  confess  and 
do  the  square  thing  and  apologize,  but  no 
kid  is  going  to  face  me  down  like  that, 
not  if  I  know  myself!" 

He  waited  before  replying  to  her  ques- 
tion long  enough  to  measure  her  slowly 
from  head  to  foot,  and  then  answered 
coolly,  as  if  it  were  hardly  worth  while. 
"Yes,  I  happened  to  ride  Len's  wheel." 

Margaret's  cheeks  flushed  and  she  was 
glad  that  May  created  a  little  commotion 


Del's  DeBt  151 

just  tlien  by  springing  up  and  saying, 
**0, 1  forgot!  Have  some  butter-scotch, 
won  't  you,  everybody?  It  's  rather 
good,  I  think.  Fresh  and  sugary.  Help 
yourselves,  please,  while  I  go  indoors 
and  hunt  up  some  one  to  make  us  a 
pitcherful  of  lemonade." 

AVhen  she  came  back  they  were  dis- 
cussing the  Sound. 

"You  have  a  fairly  good  beach  down 
there,"  Cracar  had  patronizingly  re- 
marked. "And  when  the  tide  's  up,  I 
should  think  you  'd  have  rather  tolerable 
bathing. ' ' 

"Bathing!"  laughed  Leonard  good- 
humoredly.  "We  don't  bathe  here, 
man,  we  sivim." 

"0,  well,  call  it  swim  then,  if  you 
like, ' '  observed  Cracar  carelessly. 

"Thanks  for  the  permission,"  an- 
swered Leonard  shortly. 

"What  I  mean  is  that,  honestly,  don't 
you  know,  most  people  can't  really  swim 
a  little  bit.  They  think  they  can,  but 
they  can't.  Now  take  this,  for  instance. 
Once  I  was  talking  with  a  fellow  who 
was  bragging  about  his  swimming  and  he 
told  me  he  'd  actually  swum  across  Lake 


152  Del's  Debt 

Wauchepaug,  which  is  half  a  mile  across 
from  shore  to  shore,  and  he  thought  it 
was  a  stunt.  'You  call  that  a  swim,' 
said  I ;  'well,  I  '11  go  you  one  better.  I  '11 
swim  across  and  hack!'  and,  by  Jove,  I 
did  it." 

''That  was  a  mile?"  asked  Bob  White. 

"That  was  a  mile." 

"Did  you  do  it  on  time?"  enquired 
Leonard.  "I  mean,  was  it  a  regular 
race,  or  was  it  a  go-as-you-please  af- 
fair?" 

"0,  go-as-you-please,  of  course.  He 
followed  in  a  boat." 

"Well,"  remarked  Leonard  slowly, 
"  I  'd  like  to  wager  that  May  here  could 
equal  jovly  record." 

Cracar  shot  bolt  upright  in  his  chair 
as  if  he  had  sprung  on  wires,  and  his 
eyes  darkened  and  flashed. 

"I  take  you  up,"  he  cried  hotly. 
"I  'II  give  her  a  five-pound  box  of  Huy- 
ler's  if  she  does  it.  Fair  and  square: 
a  mile:  go-as-you-please!" 

"What  do  you  say.  May?  Do  you 
want  to  try  it?"  asked  Leonard  quietly, 
but  there  was  a  smothered  eagerness  in 


Del's  Debt  153 

his  voice  that  she  caught  at  once,  and 
that  determined  her. 

*'0,  no,  no!"  broke  in  Margaret 
before  her  twin  could  reply.  ''She 
mustn't,  Leonard.  Papa  mightn't  like 
it.  It  might  exhaust  her.  Please,  please 
don't,  May." 

''I  will!"  The  words  flashed  out 
clearly,  decidedly,  and  with  a  sort  of 
defiant  do-or-die  ring  that  even  Cracar 
understood  ''meant  business." 

"It  's  a  go  then?"  he  remarked  ele- 
gantly. "All  right.  Let  's  set  the  time 
for  June.  Quail  and  I  '11  run  down  here 
with  you,  Van,  for  a  day  or  two  as  soon 
as  college  closes.  By  that  time  the 
worst  chill  '11  be  off  the  water  and 
there  '11  be  no  danger  for  the — er — Miss 
May." 

It  was  fortunate  that  the  lemonade  ar- 
rived just  here.  No  one  had  thought  the 
weather  excessively  warm,  but  the  cool 
clink  of  ice  in  the  pitcher  was  a  welcome 
sound,  and  while  they  sat  sipping  the 
pleasant  stuff  they  had  time  to  notice 
how  flushed  their  faces  were  and  how  dry 
their  lips  had  become. 

"  'No   danger   for  the — '     I  wonder 


154  Del's  Debt 

what  he  was  going  to  call  me ! "  May  pon- 
dered exasperatedly.  ' '  '  Child  I '  or 
'  kid  ? '  Well,  never  mind !  I  '11  show 
him  what  I  am  before  I  get  through. ' ' 

''Girls,"  announced  Margaret  ex- 
citedly to  May  and  Del  as  soon  as  their 
visitors  had  gone,  "do  you  want  to 
know  who  the  wheelman  was  that  fright- 
ened Lightfoot  this  morning?  It  was 
Cracar.    What  do  you  think  of  that?" 

*'Why,  I — ^just  don't  believe  it.  I 
think  you  're  mistaken,"  answered  May. 
'  *  I  think  he  's  top-lof  tical  and  proud,  but 
I  don't  think  he  'd  really  do  anything  in- 
tentionally to  hurt  a  person.  When  you 
asked  him  if  he  'd  been  on  Len's  wheel 
this  morning  he  said  'Yes,'  right  off, 
but  I  don  't  see  that  that  proves  he  was 
the  one  that  frightened  Lightfoot." 

''But  he  was,"  insisted  Margaret. 
"When  he  said  'Yes'  he  looked  me  right 
in  the  eyes  as  if  he  were  daring  me  to 
accuse  him  or  something,  and  somehow 
I  couldn't  say  anything  more,  though  I 
wanted  to  awfully.  He  's  perfectly  hor- 
rid. I  just  hate  his  lordly  manners  and 
his  high-and-mighty  way  of  looking 
down  on  us  because  we  're  little  girls. 


Del's  Debt  155 

Suppose  he  is  three  or  four  years  older 
than  we  are.  So  's  Leonard  and  so  's 
Quail  and  they  don't  put  on  such  terrible 
airs." 

''0,  May,"  broke  in  Del  impulsively, 
' '  I  wish  you  would  n  't  have  anything  to 
do  with  that  swimming  business.  I  wish 
you  would  n  't  try  it.  Somehow  I  have  a 
feeling  something  will  happen  to  make 
us  all  regret  it. ' ' 

' '  Pooh,  don 't  get  excited,  Dellie !  You 
and  Marg  have  nothing  to  do  with  it 
anyhow, ' '  answered  May.  ' '  If  anything 
happens  I  '11  be  the  only  sufferer.  But 
nothing  's  going  to  happen — except  five 
pounds  of  Huyler  's.  You  wait  and  see ! 
I'm  going  to  swim  that  mile  like  a  duck 
and  we  '11  feast  on  caramels  for  a  week 
after. ' ' 

But  in  spite  of  all  May's  courage  and 
faith  in  herself  Margaret  and  Del  were 
not  reassured.  They  knew  her  to  be  as 
hardy  and  strong-bodied  as  a  boy,  fear- 
less too  and  a  fine  natural  swimmer,  and 
yet  they  were  anxious  and  uncertain  as 
to  how  the  affair  would  end. 

''What  do  you  think  about  it,  Del," 
asked  Margaret. 


156  Del's  Debt 

''She  '11  never  get  over  it  if  she  has 
to  give  in,"  said  Del. 

"She  won't  give  in,"  declared  Mar- 
garet. ''I  know  May.  She  '11  swim 
every  inch  of  that  mile  if  it  takes  her 
last  breath." 

Del  groaned. 

During  the  weeks  that  followed,  May 
''trained"  as  conscientiously  as  if  the 
safety  of  the  nation  depended  on  her. 
She  said  very  little  about  her  plans,  but 
plainly  she  meant  to  win.  She  hadn't 
the  faintest  idea  of  allowing  herself  to 
be  "crowed  over"  by  "that  Cracar." 
And  then  there  was  the  incentive  of 
Leonard — Leonard  who  had  made  the 
claim  for  her  in  the  first  place  and  had 
put  his  faith  in  her.  Well,  she  meant 
to  do  him  credit,  that  was  all. 

The  gi'eat  day  came  at  last.  Leonard 
and  his  friends  had  arrived  the  morning 
before  and  set  to  work  immediately,  go- 
ing carefully  over  the  ground,  settling 
the  exact  points  of  start  and  finish,  over- 
hauling the  boat,  and  trying  in  every 
way  to  make  sure  of  having  "a  fair  field 
and  no  favor." 

"I  trust  you,  Cracar,"  said  Leonard 


Del's  Debt  157 

a  little  gruffly, ' '  in  case  you  see  any  signs 
of  her  giving  out,  to  take  her  into  the 
boat  at  once.  Keep  a  sharp  eye  on  her 
and  don 't  wait  for  her  to  show  the  white 
feather.  She  never  would.  Make  her 
get  into  the  boat,  if  it  's  necessary.  I 
don't  believe,  for  a  moment,  she'll  have 
to,  but  if  she  should,  why,  of  course,  you, 
as  a  gentleman,  '11  make  it  easy  for 
her. ' ' 

Cracar  laughed.  "Weakening,  eh?  I 
thought  you  would.  You  put  up  a 
pretty  strong  bluff,  old  man,  but  I  guess 
it  's  no  go." 

''Wait  and  see,"  said  Leonard. 

The  next  morning,  bright  and  early, 
they  all  assembled  at  the  shore — Sally, 
Clare,  Bob  White,  Cracar,  Leonard,  the 
twins,  and  Del.  Margaret  was  pale  and 
anxious-eyed  and  Del's  cheeks  had  a 
flush  in  them  that  was  not  natural  even 
under  the  sun,  but  May  looked  her  usual 
bright,  breezy  self,  only  a  little  prettier, 
perhaps. 

When  she  stepped  out  of  the  bathing- 
house  in  her  crimson  and  white  suit, 
with  her  curly  hair  bunched  under  a 
coquettish  little  crimson  cap,  the  party 

11  —  Del's  Debt 


158  Del's  Debt 

on  the  beach  gave  her  a  rousing  wel- 
come. 

*' Better  not  huUoo  till  you  're  out  of 
the  woods,"  she  said  gaily  in  response, 
''or  rather,  till  I  'm  out  of  the  water," 

Cracar  launched  his  skiff  and  took  his 
place  in  it. 

''You  remember  the  stake?"  shouted 
Leonard  as  he  pushed  off.  "It  's  the 
second  wharf  you  come  to,  plumb  on 
your  right.  The  first  spile  's  a  good  half- 
mile  from  this.     Don't  forget." 

Cracar  nodded  carelessly.  "Take  a 
handicap?"  he  suggested  patronizingly 
as  May  came  round  the  side  of  the  boat. 
She  gave  him  a  frank,  full  look  directly 
in  the  eyes,  which  somehow  made  him 
feel  sheepish  and  confused. 

"No  thanks,"  she  answered  shortly. 

"Ready?"  shouted  QuaiL 

She  nodded. 

"Then — go!"  cried  Leonard. 

"Good  luck.  May!" 

"If  you  get  tired,  do  get  into  the 
boat!" 

"Come  out  winner.  May!" 

"You  're  a  champion.  May!" 

"Five   pounds    of   candy!'  Think    of 


IN    HEB   CRIMSON    AND    WHITE    SUIT." 


(159) 


Del's  Debt  161 

that!  It  '11  keep  your  courage  up,"  and 
amid  shouts  and  cheers  and  bursts  of 
laughter  the  start  was  made. 

May  struck  out  easily  and  slowly. 
She  had  determined  not  to  force  herself, 
but  to  save  her  strength  and  so  have 
enough  to  spare  for  the  home-stretch. 
The  clear,  blue  sky  above,  the  sparkling 
water  beneath,  the  soft,  sweet  air  about 
her,  made  her  feel  equal  to  any  trial  of 
endurance  and  confident  of  success. 
Cracar  saw  at  a  glance  that  she  knew 
perfectly  well  what  she  was  about,  and 
it  made  him  regard  her,  not  as  a  young 
girl  to  whom  he  must  show  gallantry  and 
consideration,  but  as  a  perfectly  sound 
and  capable  rival  who,  if  she  won,  would 
have  to  do  so  fairly  and  squarely  on  her 
own  merit. 

''Very  well,  young  woman,"  he  mut- 
tered rather  grimly  to  himself,  ' '  it  's  go- 
ing to  be  sure-enough  sink  or  swim  for 
you  this  time,  and  don't  you  forget  it. 
You  '11  have  to  show  the  white  feather 
with  a  vengeance  before  I  '11  let  you.  get 
into  the  boat.  But,  by  Jove,  how  I  hope 
it  '11  come  to  that.  To  think  of  having  to 
knuckle  down    before    Van    and    Quail 


162  Del's  Debt 

and  all  on  account  of  a — girl ! ' '    He  felt 
liis  temples  throb  at  the  thought. 

He  was  thwarted  and  disapi^ointed 
when  he  saw  her  change  after  a  wliile, 
from  the  breast-stroke  to  the  side,  and 
then,  by  and  by,  vary  that  again  with 
the  over-arm.  It  showed  him  quite 
plainly  she  was  using  science  to  save  her 
strength,  and  that,  barring  accident,  she 
was  quite  likely  to  make  good  Leonard's 
boast. 

He  was  not  mean  by  nature,  but  his 
absurdly  pampered  pride  made  him 
sometimes  appear  so.  It  was  gall  and 
wormwood  to  him  to  'think  of  being 
worsted  in  anything,  and  somehow  the 
present  instance  was  particularly  exas- 
perating and  roused  in  him  an  unusual 
and  unnatural  resistance. 

At  first  he  was  glum  and  silent  enough, 
but  presently  he  began  to  shout  aloud 
all  sorts  of  absurdities  which,  when  May 
heard  them,  made  her  laugh,  till  at 
length  she  realized  she  was  wasting 
breath  and  squandering  muscle  by  the 
performance.  It  never  entered  her 
mind  that  there  might  be  method  in  his 
madness,  that  he  might  be  deliberately 


Del's  Debt  163 

trying  to  weaken  her  power.  She  only 
knew  that  she  must  keep  sternly  to  busi- 
ness and  if  need  be  hasten  on  a  little  to 
be  out  of  ear-shot.  But  Cracar  made 
up  the  distance  with  a  single  stroke  of 
the  oars  and  continued  his  chaff  with 
a  mirthless,  hard  gusto,  that  was  as  bit- 
ter to  him  as  brine,  because  even  while 
he  was  indulging  his  mean  impulse,  he 
felt  ashamed  of  it — and  Cracar  did  not 
like  to  have  to  feel  ashamed  of  him- 
self. 

May  was  still  fresh  and  in  fine  feather 
when  they  reached  the  half-mile  stake. 

''Now  for  the  home-stretch!"  she 
sang  out  gaily,  over  her  shoulder,  at 
Cracar  in  the  boat, 

''No,  you  don't!"  he  shouted  ve- 
hemently back  at  her.  "It 's  the  last 
spile  at  the  further  end  of  the  wharf. 
Len  said  so  himself,  just  before  we  left. 
Didn't  you  hear  him?" 

"He  said  the  first,"  returned  May. 

"You  're  mistaken.  I  took  special 
notice.  Still,  if  you  want  to  be  let  off 
easy,  I  '11  give  you  grace  of  the  differ- 
ence. ' ' 

Without  a  word  May  swam  forward, 


164  Del's  Debt 

her  heart  beating  high  with  indignation 
and  the  sense  that  she  was  being  delib- 
erately imposed  on.  No  need  now  to 
try  to  outstrip  the*^boat  to  keep  from 
laughing.  The  last  spile  was  reached  at 
last  and  she  took  care  to  turn  a  little 
beyond  it,  giving  this  graceless  Shylock 
the  seventeen  ounces  to  his  pound  that 
he  exacted  and  something  to  spare  for 
full  measure,  pressed  down,  and  running 
over. 

The  sun  was  in  her  eyes  now  and  per- 
haps that  was  why  her  eyeballs  burned 
so  painfully  and  why,  presently,  her 
temples  began  dully  to  throb.  The  tide 
had  been  with  them  on  the  way  out,  but 
going  back  she  had  to  swim  against  the 
current.  Cracar  found  himself  pulling 
harder  at  his  oars,  and  something  like 
compunction  struck  at  his  heart  as  he 
thought  of  May's  extra  strain. 

"0,  I  say,"  he  called  out  to  her. 
''Let  's  call  it  square.  This  is  tough 
work,  going  back,  and  I  'm  ready  to  own 
I  'm  beaten,  for  you  're  an  A  1  swim- 
mer— and  that 's  a  fact." 

But  May  shook  her  head  with  a  curt 
toss  that  made  him  feel  like  recalling 


Del's  Debt  165 

his  words.  ''Pshaw!"  he  said  irritably 
to  himself.  ''Have  it  your  own  way 
then.  It  's  none  of  my  business  if 
you  're  fagged  out.  You  knew  what  you 
were  about  when  you  started,  I  suppose, 
and  since  you  're  so  almighty  cocky,  you 
can  take  your  own  chances.  I  don't 
care  a  rush!" 

As  time  went  on,  the  noonday  sun 
grew  hotter  and  the  dazzle  and  glare  on 
the  water  more  intense  and  blinding. 

May  felt  the  force  in  her  limbs  giving 
out,  and  tried  to  ease  up  the  strain  by 
frequenter  changes  of  stroke  and  a 
slower  pace.  Cracar  noticed  that  she 
was  losing  energy,  that  her  motions 
were  getting  every  moment  more  and 
more  labored  and  languid,  but  she  had 
done  herself  no  good  by  that  defiant  lit- 
tle toss  of  her  head,  and  his  shout  of 
invitation  to  her  to  get  into  the  boat 
had  only  derision  in  it.  But  it  helped 
May,  nevertheless,  for  it  spurred  her  on 
afresh  like  a  goad,  gave  her  a  new 
nervous  force  that  was  not  a  half-bad 
substitute  for  the  muscular  strength  she 
had  lost. 

"He  thinks  he  '11  make  me  give  in, 


166  Del's  Debt 

does  he?"  she  thought  contemptuously. 
''Well,  he  won't!"  and  she  struck  out 
with  renewed  spirit. 

O,  but  the  way  back  seemed  hard  and 
long!  When  she  got  the  first  clear 
glimpse  of  the  home-wharf  around  the 
curve  of  the  banks,  a  knot  rose  in  her 
throat  and  a  film  spread  before  her  eyes. 
But  the  same  instant  her  heart  gave  a 
great  leap  of  dismay,  for  around  the 
curve  of  the  shore  swept  a  great  white 
yacht,  towering  and  majestic,  bearing 
down  full  upon  her. 


CHAPTEE  X 

The  best  of  May's  strength  wa^  gone. 
The  current  was  strong  against  her, 
and  the  yacht  was  making  good  speed. 
For  a  moment  it  seemed  as  if  her  cour- 
age would  give  out.  A  cloud  of  dancing 
specks  quivered  before  her  eyes;  her 
ears  were  full  of  the  sound  of  churning 
water. 

Somewhere  behind  her  she  thought 
she  heard  Cracar  shouting  shrilly,  but 
she  did  not  bother  to  make  sure.     She 


Del's  Debt  167 

gathered  all  her  force  together,  threw  it 
into  a  few  firm,  well-directed  strokes  in- 
shore, and  then  quietly  turned  over  upon 
her  back.  The  great  white  yacht  glided 
past,  so  near  that,  looking  up,  she  seemed 
to  see  the  gleaming  side  of  it  rise  like 
a  wall  directly  above  her,  and  then  she 
found  herself  floating  in  the  rolling 
water  it  left  heaving  in  its  track. 

It  seemed  ages  to  the  group  on  the 
beach  before  they  caught  sight  of  the 
returning  skiff.  But  at  last  it  appeared. 
It  came  nearer  and  nearer  every  mo- 
ment, changing  from  a  mere  speck  to  an 
outlined  form,  then  to  a  distinct  object. 

''Look,  Leonard,  look!"  cried  Mar- 
garet, springing  to  her  feet  and  strain- 
ing her  eyes  over  the  flashing  water. 
''There  they  are,  coming  back!  There! 
Around  the  bank.  Oh !  that  yacht !  It 's 
hiding  them  now.  You  can't  see  them 
at  all!" 

But  Leonard  and  Bob  were  exchang- 
ing significant  glances,  and  Leonard's 
face  had  grown  white  and  stiff. 

"The  yacht  is  running  them  down!" 
shrieked  Clare  suddenly.  "It  's  run- 
ning them  down!" 


168  Del's  Debt 

**Husli!"  commanded  her  brother 
sternly  in  a  voice  no  one  had  ever  heard 
him  use  before. 

If  it  were  really  so — if  the  yacht  were 
actually  running  them  down,  if  anything 
happened  to  May,  it  would  be  his  fault: 
he  would  be  responsible.  For  a  moment 
no  one  spoke.  They  were  all  breathless, 
watching  and  waiting. 

Suddenly  Bob  White  gave  a  great 
shout. 

**She  's  turned  out  a  bit  and  skirted 
'em !  She  's  turned  out  a  bit  and  skirted 
'em!  May  's  all  right!  She  's  floating!" 

Leonard  broke  into  a  boisterous  laugh 
that  had  a  queer  catch  in  it.  ' '  Good  old 
May ! "  he  cried  hoarsely. 

By  this  time  bath  boat  and  swimmer 
were  fairly  within  hailing  distance. 

*'Hail  the  conquering  hero — ine 
comes!"  trumpeted  Quail  through  his 
curved  hands,  as  they  neared  the  shore. 

Then  a  whole  chorus  of  voices  broke 
into  a  whole  volley  of  questions. 

"Aren't  you  most  dead?" 

' '  Was  n  't  it  awfully  hot  ? " 

**  Are  n't  you  glad  you  're  home?" 

But  May  did  not  wait  to  reply.     She 


Del's  Debt  169 

gave  Cracar  a  sweeping  glance  as  she 
made  her  last  stroke,  and  then  hurried 
up  the  beach  and  into  the  bathing-house. 

''Well,  she  did  it!  She  's  game!"  re- 
marked he  grudgingly  as  he  stepped  out 
of  the  boat,  wiping  his  face  with  a  fine 
silk  handkerchief  that  looked  much  the 
worse  for  having  been  used  to  whip  the 
dust  off  his  grimy  boots.  He  did  not 
say  anything  more,  and  when  May  reap- 
peared hardly  deigned  to  notice  her. 
She,  for  her  part,  was  so  silent  and  grave 
that  after  a  few  moments  the  party 
broke  up  by  common  consent,  and  the 
twins  and  Del  found  themselves  climb- 
ing the  hill  together  rather  dispiritedly. 
Now  that  it  was  over  and  the  excitement 
past,  May  felt  limp  and  dejected.  It  had 
all  been  a  sorry  disappointment,  and  the 
bitterest  part  of  it  all  was  that  Leonard 
had  not  seemed  a  mite  triumphant  over 
her  success.  In  fact  she  had  never 
known  him  to  be  so  dumb — without  a 
word  to  say  to  anybody. 

''If  you  '11  let  me,  May,  I  'd  like  to 
brush  your  hair  a  while, ' '  suggested  Del 
a  little  timidly,  not  knowing  how  her  of- 
fer would  be  met.     "It  always  rests  me 


170  Del's  Debt 

and  does  me  good,  and  I  'd  like  to  try 
and  see  if  it  wouldn't  you." 

May  nodded  her  thanks  as  she  list- 
lessly flung  herself  upon  her  bed.  Poor 
child,  she  was  '* crying  tired,"  too  worn 
out  to  talk,  and  yet  she  would  not  have 
owned  to  it  for  the  world.  But  w^ien 
Margaret  came  up-stairs  bearing  a  dain- 
tily spread  luncheon-tray  that  she  had 
arranged  herself,  May  fell  upon  it 
ravenously  and  ate  and  ate  until  she  felt 
better. 

''I  simply  detest  that  Cracar!"  she 
said  as  the  last  crumb  disappeared. 
''Do  you  know  what  he  did?" 

It  was  lots  of  satisfaction  to  see  Mar- 
garet's jaws  set  and  Del's  eyes  flash  in 
righteous  indignation  as  they  listened. 
Somehow  May's  resentment  seemed  to 
grow  weaker  as  theirs  grew  strong,  and 
by  the  time  she  had  said  her  say  she  was 
able  to  laugh  at  their  excitement  and 
try  to  calm  it  down. 

"What  's  the  odds?"  she  exclaimed 
lightly.  "It  isn't  likely  we'll  any  of 
us  ever  see  him  again.  He  '11  send  me 
my  candy  and  I  '11  write  him  a  nice  little 


Del's  Debt  171 

note  saying  'Thank  you  kindly,  young 
sir/  and  tliat  'II  be  the  end  of  it." 

But  May  was  mistaken.  It  wasn't 
the  end  of  it. 

The  next  morning  she  and  Del  es- 
corted Daddy  to  the  train,  and  just  as 
they  neared  the  track  May  said : 

'  ^  0  dear !  if  this  is  n  't  exactly  my 
luck!  I  forgot  to  sew  that  ripped  place 
in  my  sleeve  and  now  I  feel  it  pulling 
and  pulling.  The  whole  thing  '11  be  out 
by  the  time  we  get  home  if  I  don't  do 
something  to  stop  it.  When  we  get  to 
the  station,  and  after  Daddy  's  gone, 
will  you  come  into  the  waiting-room, 
Delsie,  ajid  catch  the  thread  and  pin  me 
together  ? ' ' 

*'0f  course  I  will,"  assented  Del 
promptly. 

It  was  very  warm.  The  windows  of 
the  waiting-room  were  flung  open  to  the 
top  and  the  outer  shutters  drawn  close 
to  keep  out  the  sun. 

'  ^  My,  but  it  's  hot  in  here ! ' '  exclaimed 
May  as  she  crossed  the  door-sill. 
*'Come  to  the  window,  Dellie.  Perhaps 
there  '11  be  a  chance  of  a  breeze." 

The  pinning  together  process  proved 


172  Del's  Debt 

rather  difficult,  and  Del  worked  away 
in  silence  for  some  minutes,  while  May 
had  all  she  could  do  to  keep  from  mov- 
ing her  arms  to  cool  her  flushed  face 
with  her  handkerchief.  Suddenly  the 
sound  of  two  well-known  voices  came  to 
them  very  distinctly  through  the  slats 
of  the  closed  shutters.  Leonard  had 
come  down  to  see  Cracar  off  on  the  train, 
and  now,  to  avoid  the  glare,  they  were 
standing  directly  outside  the  open  win- 
dow behind  which  the  girls  were 
screened. 

"Well,  it 's  too  bad  you  have  to  hurry 
away,"  Leonard  was  saying,  though  not 
in  his  usual  whole-hearted  fashion. 
''Can't  we  offer  you  any  inducement  to 
stay — at  least  as  long  as  Quail  does?" 

**No,  thanks.  Much  obliged  just  the 
same.  I  've  slues  of  places  to  go,  and 
I  must  be  off,"  responded  Cracar. 

''Hillborough  isn't  very  gay,  I  ad- 
mit," said  Leonard 

"0,  it's  all  right,"  Cracar  assured 
him  carelessly.  ''There  '11  be  more  do- 
ing, I  s'pose,  when  those  kids  grow  up. 
They  're  pretty  little  girls,  'specially  the 
young  Middlebrook  one  that  is  n't  a  Mid- 


.     DePs  Debt  173 

dlebrook — what  's  her  name?  Nell! 
Del?" 

**Del — Del  Douglas,"  returned  Leon- 
ard. *'But  May  's  a  plucky  little  crea- 
ture, is  n't  she?  We  '11  all  think  of  you, 
Cracar,  when  we  eat  the  candy  you  're 
going  to  send  her,  for  she  's  as  generous 
as  she  is  gritty — and  she  '11  be  sure  to 
go  shares." 

''Candy?  What  candy?" 

''Why,  the  candy  you  promised  her, 
old  man.  The  five  pounds  of  Huyler's, 
you  know." 

"Five  pounds  of  Huyler's?  Five 
pounds  of  nothing.  I  'm  not  wasting 
good  ammunition  on  such  small  game." 

''Great  Scott,  Cracar,  you  're  surely 
not  in  earnest,"  Leonard  exclaimed. 
"What  difference  does  her  being  'small 
game '  make  ?  A  debt 's  a  debt  and  a  debt 
of  honor — " 

"Hullo!  Here  comes  the  train. 
Did  n't  know  you  were  such  a  prig.  Van. 
So  long !     See  you  in  the  fall,  eh  ? " 

When  the  two  girls  came  out  of  the 
stuffy  little  room,  their  cheeks  were  blaz- 
ing. They  waited  until  Leonard  had 
driven  well  out  of  sight  and  then  they 

12  —  Del's  Debt 


174  Del's  Debt 

started  for  home.  Neither  spoke.  But 
when,  a  few  days  later,  a  splendid  box 
of  candy  arrived  directed  to  May,  their 
eyes  met  in  a  puzzled  stare. 

''So  he  did  send  it  after  all,"  whis- 
pered Del. 

May  shook  her  head.  ' '  I  don 't  believe 
it, ' '  she  answered  grimly.  ' '  I  'm  almost 
sure  it  's  Leonard's  doing.  There  's  no 
card  to  show,  though,  so  I  can't  thank 
anybody.  No,  Cracar  hasn't  done  this. 
It  's  Leonard  himself.  He  's  trying  to 
save  Mr.  F.  Creighton  Cartwright's  rep- 
utation.    Poor  old  Len!" 

"I  s'pose  you  '11  never  let  him  think 
you  think  Cracar  didn't  do  itf" 

''No,  never.  It  would  only  spoil  his 
friendly  little  plan  and  do  no  one  any 
good.  I  have  my  own  private  opinion, 
but  I  'm  in  no  hurry  to  publicly  express 
it.  Some  one  is  sure  to  settle  accounts 
with  Cracar  some  day.  He  '11  simply 
make  them  do  it  by  the  way  he  behaves. 
I  can't  say,  though,  I  wouldn't  like  to 
be  there  when  it  happens.  Such  fun  as 
it  would  be  to  see  him  really  paid  off 
as  he  deserves." 

Whatever   Leonard    and   Bob   White 


DePs  Debt  l'5 

may  have  thouglit,  tliey  never  "let  on" 
to  the  girls,  and  although  "the  crowd," 
as  they  called  themselves,  was  constant- 
ly together  through  the  summer,  nothing 
more  was  ever  said  about  Cracar,  and  he 
seemed  to  have  passed  out  of  their  lives 
and  left  no  trace  behind. 

The  outdoor  life  and  active  exercise 
made  another  girl  of  Del.  She  grew 
tall,  strong,  and  hearty,  and  by  autumn 
was  quite  ready  to  begin  the  singing- 
lessons  she  had  been  looking  forward  to 
so  eagerly. 

"Pooh!"  exclaimed  May  contemptu- 
ously, "I  wouldn't  be  bothered  doing 
all  the  things  you  have  to  do  to  keep 
your  voice  in  order.  Just  think!  going 
without  candy  and  taking  cold  plunges 
every  morning:  no  late  hours,  and  most 
of  your  time  indoors  spent  practicing. 
It  's  too  much  like  work  to  suit  me." 

"Lazybones!"  jeered  Del. 

"Christine  says  'II  faut  souffrire  pour 
etre  belle':  and  it's  true;  one  lias  to 
suffer  to  be  beautiful,  and  I  guess  that  's 
about  the  truth  of  it,"  said  Margaret. 
' '  I  never  knew  anything  like  the  way  that 
poor  Madame  Helmann  had  to  work.     I 


176  Del's  Debt 

used  to  think  great  singers  and  people 
like  that  had  a  lovely  time.  Nothing 
but  beautiful  presents  from  'kinks  and 
potingates'  as  Christine  calls  'em.  But 
Madame  Helmann  was  famous  enough 
for  anything  and  she  used  to  work  like 
a  slavey  all  day  long.  Christine  says 
we  would  n't  put  up  with  the  simple  way 
she  lived,  and  as  for  flowers  and  ap- 
plause and  splendid  dinners  and  rolling 
carriages!  Sh.e  hadn't  any  time  to 
think  of  them.  She  was  practicing  and 
rehearsing  and  studying  new  roles,  as 
they  call  'em,  all  the  livelong  while.  And 
the  worst  was  she  could  never  have  any 
real  home — with  her  family  and  things 
— for  she  was  travelling  most  of  the 
time,  and  at  the  other  end  of  the  earth." 

*'0,  an  artist's  life  is  not  a  happy 
one,  happy  one ! ' '  chanted  Del  gaily. 

*'I  shouldn't  think  it  was,  at  that 
rate,"  scoffed  May. 

"Christine  says,"  continued  Mar- 
garet, "that  Madame  Helmann  never 
ate  rich  food  or  sweet  things  for  fear 
they  would  upset  her,  and  made  it  a  rule 
to  take  regular  exercise  and  cold  baths 
to  keep  her  circulation  in  order.     She 


Del's  Debt  177 

wouldn't  wear  furs,  because  they  make 
the  throat  tender;  and  she  never  stayed 
up  late  except  the  nights  she  was  sing- 
ing, else  she  'd  have  been  too  tired  to  do 
her  best." 

' '  Well,  as  far  as  I  can  see, ' '  said  May, 
"a  person  like  that  is  more  bound  down 
than  we  are.  I  wouldn't  be  hired  to 
spend  my  life  so.  I  hate  to  feel  I  've  got 
to  do  things.  It  just  makes  me  furi- 
ous." 

^'Wouldn't  you  be  willing  to  give  up 
and  go  without  pleasures  for  the  sake 
of  some  one  you  loved  ? ' '  demanded  Del. 

'^0,  of  course.  But  singing — music 
— isn't  like  a  person." 

'  *  It  is — ^when  you  love  it ! "  said  Del. 

' '  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  're  will- 
ing to  do  all  that  Madame  Helmann  did, 
just  so  you  can  be  able  to  sing  as  well  as 
she  does  ? ' ' 

'^0,  if  I  thought  I  could  ever  sing 
as  well  as  she  does!"  sighed  Del,  in  a 
way  that  showed  very  plainly  that  she 
would  be  perfectly  willing. 

''Well,  all  I  've  got  to  say  is,  you  have 
queer  taste.  Of  course  I  can  see  it  must 
be  great  fun  to  be  admired  and  praised 


178  DePs  Debt      ' 

and  all  that.  But  if  you  've  got  to  pay 
so  much  for  it  the  fun  comes  high." 

''Somehow,"  said  Del,  "it  doesn't 
seem  as  if  the  being  admired  and  praised 
is  the  real  thing,  quite.  I  think  the  real 
thing,  the  thing  I  long  for  and  am  willing 
to  pay  for  as  Madame  Helmann  does,  is 
the  chance  to  do  something  beautiful. 
To  make  people  understand  the  things 
I  feel.  It  's  as  if  you  were  dumb  and 
wanted — oh,  wanted  so  much — ^to  tell 
something  lovely  that  you  had  in  your 
heart.  When  I  'm  singing  I  feel  as  if 
I  were  doing  that  a  little,  and  it  makes 
me  feel — well,  I  can't  describe  it,  but 
it  's  as  if  I  had  wings  and  were  free.  I 
know  what  I  say  sounds  silly,  but  I 
know  I  'd  have  to  be  willing  to  give  up 
anything  for  my  singing  else  I  could 
never  do  it  right — not  as  I  want  to.  I 
think  it  's  that  way  with  people.  They 
have  no  choice.  If  they  don't  have  to  do 
their  art,  they  oughtn't  attempt  it,  for 
they  aren't  the  real  things,  don't  you 
see?" 

*'No,  I  don't,"  replied  May  bluntly. 
*'I  'm  sorry,  but  I  don't  understand  a 
single  word  of  all  you  've  been  saying. ' ' 


Del's  Debt  179 

''I  think  I  do,"  broke  in  Margaret. 
**I  think  Del  means  that  the  real  artist 
only  cares  for  admiration  as  something 
he  's  earned — ^just  as  a  sort  of  prize 
he  's  got  by  excelling.  But  the  real 
thing  is  the  joy  of  having  done  well. 
And  it  's  no  matter  if  no  one  else  cares 
• — he  's  got  to  go  on  trying  and  striving, 
just  the  same.  He  can't  get  away  from, 
it — it  's  like  a  sort  of  fate.  And  if  he 
doesn't  just  have  to  keep  on,  working 
and  waiting  and  bearing  things  for  the 
sake  of  his  art,  why,  then  he  isn't  the 
real  thing." 

''Well,  I  'm  glad  I  'm  not  the  real 
thing,  then,  so  there ! ' '  declared  May  de- 
cidedly, ' '  for  I  'd  hate  to  have  to  give  up 
everything  I  like  best  for  the  sake  of 
some  stupid  stunt.  And  then  when  I  'd 
started  in  to  sing  or  play  or  paint  or 
write  or  whatever  it  was  I  'd  spent  my 
life  working  for,  to  have  the  newspapers 
come  out  and  say  mean,  false  things 
about  me!" 

''I  know  why  you  say  that,"  broke  in 
Margaret.  ''Christine  's  been  telling 
you  about  the  unjust  way  the  reporters 
and  critics  used  to  write  about  Madame 


180  Del's  Debt 

Helmann,  and  liow,  at  first,  it  almost 
broke  her  heart — " 

''Yes,  and  other  singers  were  jealous 
of  her  and  tried  to  slander  her  and — " 

''0,  I  know  very  well  it  wouldn't  be 
an  easy  life, ' '  said  Del  soberly.  ' '  When 
I  was  a  little  girl  and  used  to  dream 
about  being  a  great  singer  some  day, 
Mammady  would  say,  'It  's  a  thorny 
road,  Delsie,'  and  she  knew  because 
she  'd  tried  it — ^poor  little  Mother ! ' ' 

"Tell  about  her,"  cried  the  twins. 


CHAPTER  XI 

''Why,  there  is  n't  very  much  to  tell," 
Del  replied,  "that  is,  it  's  not  much  of  a 
story.  When  Mamma  was  about  my 
age  her  father  and  mother  died.  They 
had  been  pretty  poor,  I  guess,  and  when 
they  were^dead  there  was  nothing  at  all 
left  for  Mother.  I  don  't  know  what 
would  have  happened  if  an  old  lady — 
she  was  some  sort  of  a  far-off  relation — 
hadn't  taken  her  into  her  house  and 
given  her,  well,  it  was  n't  a  home,  it  was 
just  a  place  to   stay  in.     Mother  was 


Del's  Debt  181 

always  very  grateful  to  her  relation,  but 
she  never  grew  to  love  her.  The  house 
was  old  and  gloomy  and  stately,  just 
like  Aunt  Cornelia  herself.  Aunt  Cor- 
nelia never  seemed  to  remember  Mother 
was  young  and  needed  a  little  fun  once 
in  a  while.  All  she  seemed  to  think  of 
was  that  poor  Mammady  was  an  expense 
to  her  and  that  she  must  make  her  econo- 
mize as  much  as  possible  and  help  with 
the  housework  to  sort  of  'earn  her  board 
an'  keep,'  like  little  orphant  Annie,  you 
know.  Well,  things  went  on  that  way 
for  over  a  year,  and  then,  one  day,  a 
great  change  came.  Aunt  Cornelia  was 
entertaining  a  caller  in  the  great,  dark 
drawing-room,  and  Mother  didn't  hap- 
pen to  know  it.  It  was  spring,  and  the 
air  was  lovely  and  soft,  and  somehow 
Mammady  said  she  felt  so  happy  in  her 
heart  that  before  she  knew  it  she  was 
singing.  She  sang  and  she  sang,  and  the 
more  she  sang  the  happier  she  felt. 
Suddenly,  she  said,  her  voice  caught  in 
her  throat  and  her  heart  gave  a  great 
thump,  for  there  in  the  doorway  stood 
Aunt  Cornelia,  looking  terribly  grim  and 
forbidding.     Mammady   was   so   scared 


182  Del's  Debt 

she  couldn't  speak,  and  for  a  second  or 
so  Aunt  Cornelia  glared  at  her  without 
saying  a  word.  It  must  have  been  aw- 
ful. Then,  just  as  Mother  was  begin- 
ning to  think  the  end  of  the  world  had 
come,  Aunt  Cornelia  stepped  into  the 
room  and  said:  'It  seems  you  have  a 
voice.  I  am  told  it  is  rather  a  good 
voice.  In  fact,  my  caller  down-stairs, 
w^ho  is  a  judge  of  such  matters,  assures 
me  you  have  a  voice  it  would  pay  to  cul- 
tivate. If  your  face  and  hands  are  clean, 
you  may  come  to  the  drawing-room.  My 
visitor  wishes  to  hear  you  sing,  so  it  may 
be  possible  to  decide  what  would  best  be 
done  with  you.'  Mother  was  almost 
paralyzed :  she  went  down-stairs  shaking 
and  trembling  and  sure  she  wouldn't 
be  able  to  sing  a  note.  But  the  caller 
was  very  kind  and  friendly,  and  before 
Mother  knew  it  she  was  letting  her  voice 
out  beautifully.  Aunt  Cornelia  sat  by 
as  grim  as  a  graven  image  and  never 
said  a  word  nor  smiled  a  smile,  while 
the  visitor  went  into  raptures  over  Moth- 
er's  voice.  But  when  Aunt  Cornelia 
had  Mammady  alone  at  last,  she  said  she 
had  concluded  to  give  her  a  chance  to 


Del's  Debt  183 

earn  her  living.  *It  seems,'  she  said, 
'that  a  good,  well-trained  voice  is  worth 
money.  I  am  told  public  singers  often 
make  quite  a  fortune.  Now,  as  you 
know,  you  are  a  considerable  expense  to 
me.  You  have  no  prospects.  Unless 
you  can  be  made  to  earn  your  living,  you 
will  continue  to  be  an  expense  to  me. 
Now  I  am  willing  to  take  my  friend's 
advice  and  send  you  to  Paris  to  have 
your  voice  trained,  if  you  will  undertake 
to  consider  the  money  I  lay  out  on  you 
in  the  light  of  a  debt* — to  be  paid  back 
with  interest  when  you  are  fairly  self- 
supporting.  Business  is  business,  and 
if  I  invest  a  certain  sum  in  your  voice 
I  expect  to  see  it  returned.  Do  you  un- 
derstand?' Poor  Mammady!  She  said 
'yes,  she  understood.  She  would  con- 
sider it  a  debt,'  and  so  it  wasn't  long 
before  Aunt  Cornelia  sent  her  off  to 
Paris  to  a  celebrated  teacher  who  has 
trained  some  of  our  finest  singers.  She 
accepted  Mammady  at  once  as  a  pupil, 
and  for  six  months  everything  went  all 
right.  Then  one  day  the  great  teacher 
called  Mother  into  her  study  and  told 
her  she  was  very  sorry  to  have  to  disap- 


184  Del's  Debt 

point  her,  but  that  Mother's  voice  would 
never  be  'big'  enough  for  public  sing- 
ing. However,  if  she  would  keep  on 
studying  as  she  was  doing  now,  in  three 
years  she  would  be  fitted  to  teach 
Madame 's  own  method,  and  Madame 
would  then  give  her  a  certificate  recom- 
mending her  as  her  'authorized  pupil.' 
At  first  Mother  almost  broke  down:  it 
was  such  a  cruel  disappointment.  But 
she  never  let  herself  mope  over  her  wor- 
ries, and  the  first  thing  she  did  was  to 
sit  down  and  write  a  letter  to  Aunt  Cor- 
nelia, telling  her  just  how  the  case  stood 
and  asking  her  if  she  would  let  her  go  on 
studying  with  Madame  under  the  cir- 
cumstances. Aunt  Cornelia's  answer 
came  by  the  first  post.  'Certainly  not !' 
she  said.  Mother  'ought  to  know 
enough  already  to  teach  in  a  small  way, 
and  she  'd  better  set  about  it  at  once.' 
Anyway  she.  Aunt  Cornelia,  would  risk 
no  more  money,  for  teaching  was  slow 
work  and  poor  pay,  and  Mother  might  be 
years  working  off  her  debt,  if  she  could 
work  it  off  at  all.  Anyhow  Aunt  Cor- 
nelia was  resolved  to  send  no  more 
money,  and  that  was  all  there  was  about 


Del's  Debt  185 

it.  Mother  showed  the  letter  to  Ma- 
dame, and  Madame  shrugged  her  shoul- 
ders. It  was  'deplorable,'  she  said. 
But  she  had  made  it  a  rule  never  to  give 
a  lesson  unless  the  full  price  was  paid 
in  advance,  and  she  could  not  make  any 
exceptions  in  favor  of  any  one.  Mother 
had  a  voice  *  douce  comme  tout,'  and 
would  'make  an  instructress  the  most 
excellent,'  but  all  the  same — she  really 
could  not  make  any  exceptions  to  her 
rule. 

"Mother  went  home  to  her  pension 
and  locked  herself  into  her  room.  I 
s'pose  she  cried.  I  knew  I  could  n't  have 
helped  it.  But  when  she  came  out,  she 
did  what  I  never  could  have  done.  She 
went  to  her  landlady  and  told  her  what 
had  happened  and  asked  if  she  might 
try  to  eami  her  board  by  doing  house- 
work, and  teaching  English  and  singing 
to  the  landlady's  daughter.  The  land- 
lady thought  a  few  minutes  and  then 
said  *  Yes. '  She  put  Mother  up  in  a  little 
room  under  the  roof,  but  she  wasn't 
unkind  to  her.  In  fact,  she  found  other 
pupils  for  her — ones  that  paid  well — 
and  after,  a  few  months  Mother  was  able 


186  Bel's  Debt 

to  go  back  to  Madame  and  rebegm  her 
lessons.  She  worked  that  way  from 
morning  till  night  for  three  years — 
studying  with  Madame,  doing  house- 
work, teaching  singing,  English,  and 
French,  and  doing  fine  sewing  in  between 
times ;  and  at  last  Madame  gave  her  the 
great  certificate  authorizing  her  to  teach 
the  wonderful  method.  But  the  strain 
had  been  too  great,  and  Mammady  broke 
down  and  had  a  fever.  When  she  got 
better,  she  married  my  father,  who  was 
a  young  medical  student  at  the  great 
Sorbonne  college  in  Paris.  He  had  been 
very  good  to  her,  and  though  they  were 
as  poor  as  church  mice,  they  were  as 
happy  as  they  could  possibly  be.  Then 
I  was  born  and  they  were  happier  still, 
and  then,  quite  suddenly,  my  father  died. 
He  got  blood-poisoning  while  he  was 
making  an  operation,  and  he  died  within 
a  few  days.  Then  Mother  brought  me 
to  America.  She  taught  singing  and 
earned  enough  to  support  us  and  pay 
back  Aunt  Cornelia,  and  she  always  tried 
to  put  by  a  little  so  sometime  I  could  go 
to  Paris  and  study  under  Madame.  But 
it  was  hard  work,  and  the  debt  part  of  it 


Del's  Debt  187 

hurt  her  more  than  anything  else,  for 
she  never  let  herself  rest  till  the  last 
cent  was  returned,  interest  and  all." 

''And  that  woman  took  it! — took  the 
money  ? ' '  blazed  May  with  flashing  eyes. 

"0,  yes,  she  took  it." 

"Well,  all  I  've  got  to  say  is  she  's  a 
regular  miser,  and  I  just  wish  I  knew 
where  she  lives  so  I  could  go  there  and 
give  her  a  piece  of  my  mind,  the  horrid 
thing ! ' ' 

"Now  I  see,"  said  Margaret  musing- 
ly, "how  it  is  you  can  sing  so  well. 
Your  mother  taught  you." 

"Yes,  she  taught  me,"  answered  Del, 
"but  not  very  much  of  course.  She  said 
I  was  too  young,  and  she  did  not  want 
me  to  tax  my  voice  at  all  until  I  was 
older.  She  made  me  take  breathing  ex- 
ercises and  taught  me  something  about 
producing  the  tones,  as  they  call  it,  but 
she  always  hoped  the  time  would  come 
when  I  could  go  to  Paris  and  study  with 
Madame,  as  she  had  done. ' ' 

' '  The  time  will  come, ' '  broke  in  an  un- 
expected voice  from  the  doorway,  and 
there  stood  Daddy  smiling  down  at  them 
with   a   guilty  expression  that  told  at 


188  Del's  Debt 

once  he'd  been  playing  eavesdropper 
and  had  heard  the  whole  story.  ''The 
time  will  come,  Delsie,"  he  repeated,  as 
the  twins  bounded  forward  and  dragged 
him  back  with  them  to  the  window-seat. 

''0^  Daddy,  Daddy!  Really?  Truly? 
Do  you  mean  it  ? "  Del  stammered  eager- 
ly, while  the  twins  clapped  their  hands 
until  their  father  had  to  put  his  hand-s 
over  his  ears. 

"1  have  been  thinking  of  a  plan,"  he 
began,  as  soon  as  he  could  make  himself 
heard. 

'*  'To  dye  my  whiskers  green,'  '* 
quoted  May. 

"Hush!"  commanded  Margaret. 

"For  a  grand  outing  time  for  us  all," 
Daddy  continued.  "What  do  you  say 
to  our  closing  up  the  place  here  next 
spring  and  going  abroad  for  a  while?" 

" '  Tlie  owl  and  the  pussy-cat  went  to  sea 
In  a  beautiful  pea-green  boat,' " 

sang  May,  grasping  Del  by  the  hand  and 
dancing  her  wildly  about  the  room. 

"Hurrah!  Hurrah!"  shouted  Mar- 
garet,  springing  up   and   clasping  her 


Del's  Debt  189 

father  round  the  neck.  ^'0  Daddy!  it 
would  be  perfectly  festive." 

''Well,  then,  I  am  to  gather  you  ap- 
prove?" he  said  with  a  twinkle  of  amuse- 
ment in  his  eye.  ''But  really  it  all  de- 
pends on  Del.  I  have  just  been  having 
a  chat  with  h-er  singing-teacher  and  he 
says — " 

"0,  what  does  he  say?"  interrupted 
Margaret  eagerly.  "Doesn't  he  think 
she  sings  splendidly?  Doesn't  he  think 
she  has  a  perfectly  wonderful  voice  ? ' ' 

"0,  hush,  Marg,  hush!"  pleaded  Del 
tremblingly,  while  her  face  grew  quite 
pale  with  excitement. 

Mr.  Middlebrook  took  her  cold  little 
hand  in  his  and  drew  her  affectionately 
down  beside  him.  "Well,  he  seems  to 
hope  she  may  do  rather  nice  tilings  some 
day, ' '  he  remarked  quietly.  ' '  But  she  '11 
have  to  work  first.  He  appears  to  feel 
she  has  had  some  excellent  training  al- 
ready and  that  her  voice  is  very  extr — 
very  expressive  and — " 

"0  Daddy!"  broke  in  May,  catching 
him  up  quickly,  ' '  he  did  n  't  say  expres- 
sive at  all.  I  just  know  he  didn't.  I 
can  see  it  in  your  eyes.    He  said  '  extra- 

13  —  DeVs  Debt 


190  Del's  Debt 

ordinary'  and  you  're  trying  to  soften  it 
down  so  Del  won't  get  'primmed  up  with 
majestick  pride.'  But  you  needn't  be 
afraid.  She  wouldn't  anyhow.  She 
isn't  that  kind." 

*'So  much  the  better,"  remarked 
Daddy,  patting  her  hand  approvingly. 
"If  she  were  that  kind,  that  would  spoil 
it  all.  But  to  go  back  to  the  plan  and 
how  it  depends  on  her.  If  she  works 
hard  throughout  this  fall  and  winter, 
keeps  well,  and  doesn't  let  her  head  get 
turned,  why,  next  spring  we  '11  take  her 
to  the  other  side,  give  her  a  couple  of 
months  of  playtime,  and  then  settle  her 
down  in  Paris  for  a  course  of  serious 
work.  Now  let  us  hear  what  you  have 
to  say  about  it,  Delsie.  Do  you  think 
you  really  care  enough  for  this  voice  of 
yours  to  repay  you  for  all  it  's  going  to 
cost? — cost  in  self-denial  and  hard  work 
and  all?" 

DePs  eyes  gave  him  his  answer,  con- 
vincing him  and  thanking  him  both  at 
once. 

''But  please  tell  us,"  cried  Margaret, 
shaking  him  gently  to  impress  him  with 
the  importance  of  what  she  was  going 


Del's  Debt  191 

to  say,  ''Please  tell  us  what  we  Ve  to  be 
doing  in  the  meantime.  I  mean,  while 
Del  's  at  her  music." 

''0,  you  '11  be  studying,  tooi — for  a 
year.  Then  I  '11  bring  you  home  and 
leave  Del  to  follow  when  her  great 
Madame  is  done  with  her.  So  now, 
young  ladies,  mind  your  manners,  con 
your  books,  and  obey  your  Daddy,  or — - 
no  Europe  for  you  next  spring." 

The  girls  laughed  back  at  him  to  show 
how  little  they  feared  his  threat,  and 
then  began  to  chatter  so  excitedly  over 
the  new  plan  and  all  the  changes  it  would 
bring,  that  he  had  to  put  his  hands  over 
his  ears  again  and  beat  a  hasty  retreat 
to  escape  the  hubbub. 

But  back  of  all  her  joy  in  the  wonder- 
ful prospect,  Del  felt  the  old  weight  on 
her  heart  that  always  returned  when 
she  remembered  her  debt.  In  a  twink- 
ling she  was  back  again  in  Mrs. 
Jud's  best  spare-room,  lying  in  the 
great,  gloomy  bed,  with  its  giant 
bunches  of  black-walnut  fruit  glued  to 
the  headboard.  She  had  been  haunted 
with  a  fear  that  the  fruit  was  going  to 
fall  down  and  crush  her,  and  she  had 


192  Del's  Debt 

tried  to  shift  out  of  its  way,  but 
couldn't.  Then  in  the  midst  of  her 
dread  and  fear  had  come  the  sound  of 
voices,  men's  voices,  and  she  had  opened 
her  eyes  to  see  three  kind  faces  bending 
over  her.  They  were  all  familiar  to  her, 
and  yet,  at  first,  she  could  not  place 
them.  She  remembered  the  struggle 
she  had  had  before  she  could  fix  Mr. 
Middlebrook's.  How  the  picture  of  the 
twins,  galloping  into  Main  Street  on 
their  dashing  ponies  or  in  their  jaunty 
cart,  had  at  last  done  it.  He  was  May's 
and  Margaret's  father!  And  then  the 
hum  of  voices  had  filled  her  ears  and 
she  had  heard  him  promise  to  give  her 
a  home.  And  when  she  had  looked  up 
to  thank  him,  lo!  the  room  had  been 
dark  and  all  she  had  been  able  to  make 
out  in  the  gloom  was  Mrs.  Jud  peace- 
fully snoring  in  a  chair  near  the  table. 
Her  heart  had  ached  with  disappoint- 
ment, for  she  knew  she  was  homeless, 
now  her  mother  was  dead,  and  the  dream 
that  Mr.  Middlebrook  had  promised  to 
make  her  May's  and  Margaret's  sister 
had  been  a  beautiful,  comforting  one. 
But,  presently,  it  had  become  so  mixed 


Del's  Debt  193 

up  with  her  other  dreams  that  she  forgot 
it  altogether.  Such  hideous  dreams ! 
They  had  crowded  on  her  from  out  of 
the  shadows,  and  her  body  had  ached 
trying  to  fight  them  off.  But  at  last  her 
head  had  seemed  to  clear,  the  burning 
furnace  in  it  had  cooled  down,  and  she 
again  heard  familiar  voices  beside  her. 

''I  '11  carry  her  home  with  me  to  be 
cared  for  as  a  beloved  daughter  till  the 
time  comes  when  she  '11  want  to  leave 
the  old  man  to  make  a  home  for  her- 
self." 

*'God  bless  you,  Mr.  Middlebrook! 
The  Lord  has  tempered  the  wind  to  the 
shorn  lamb.  .  .  .  She  will  owe  you 
a  debt  she  could  hardly  pay  in  a  lifetime. 
But  I  hope  she  will  try  to  repay  you,  and 
I  think  she  will.  She  seems  like  an  hon- 
est, true — Sh !  She  's  opening  her  eyes. 
She  's  waking  up. ' ' 

So  the  dream  had  been  a  true  one  after 
all!  But  the  hateful  word  ''debt"  had 
taken  the  sweetness  out  of  it.  How  it 
all  came  back  to  her !  Her  mother's  dread 
of  debt  and  her  own  fixed  determination 
never,  never  to  owe  any  one  anything 
she  could  not  repay.    Well,  she  meant  to 


194  Del's  Debt 

be  honest  and  true,  as  Doctor  Emmet 
had  promised,  and  pay  Daddy  back  for 
all  he  was  giving  her.  She  knew  better 
now  than  to  suppose  she  could  do  it  in 
money.  That  had  been  a  childish  notion. 
But  if  she  made  a  name  for  herself!  If 
she  worked  hard,  cultivated  her  voice, 
and  became  famous  at  last  so  that  he 
might  be  proud  of  her!  That  would 
surely  help  her  to  pay  her  debt.  And 
yet — suppose  she  were  to  fail.  Suppose 
her  voice  should  not  be  ''big"  enough 
for  great  things. 

*'Del,  wake  up!  What  under  the  sun 
ails  you?  I  've  asked  you  the  same  ques- 
tion three  times  over  and  you  act  as  if 
you  were  as  deaf  as  a  post," 

Del  pulled  herself  together  with  a  con- 
fused little  scowl. 

''Excuse  me.  May,  I  was  just  think- 
ing," she  answered.  "What  was  it  you 
wanted  to  know  I ' ' 

"0,  Marg  and  I  were  just  saying 
how  great  it  will  be  if  you  can  show  your 
fine  singing-teacher  over  in  Paris  what 
a  splendid  voice  you  have!  Won't  you 
feel  proud  and  as  if,  somehow,  it  would 
pay  ber  back  for  the  way  she  treated 


Del's  Debt  195 

your  mother?  Marg  says  if  she  were  in 
your  place  she  'd  go  to  her  just  to  let 
her  hear  how  you  can  sing  and  then  have 
some  one  else  teach  you  and  get  the 
glory.  It  certainly  would  be  a  splendid 
way  to  square  up  your  mother's  score 
with  her." 

Del's  eyebrows  drew  together  in  an 
anxious  frown.  A  new  thought  had 
come  to  her.  Was  it  really  true,  what 
Margaret  suggested,  that  she  owed 
Madame  a  debt  on  her  mother's  account? 
And  if  it  were  right  to  pay  debts  of  grati- 
tude, was  it  not  also  right  to  pay  debts 
of  resentment? 

''Del!— Del!"  called  Mr.  Middle- 
brook  from  the  hall-room. 

Del  sprang  to  her  feet  instantly  and 
ran  down  to  answer  him,  giving  him  a 
cheery  *'Yes,  Daddy!"  on  the  way,  to 
show  him  she  was  coming. 

He  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  staircase 
awaiting  her,  with  an  open  letter  in  his 
hand. 

''My  dear,"  he  said,  "this  has  just 
come  by  special  delivery,  and  you  are  the 
one  to  answer  it,  not  I.  Your  mother's 
relation^ — the  Aunt  Cornelia  you  have 


196  Del's  Debt 

just  been  talking  about — is,  it  seems, 
seriously  sick,  and  slie  has  expressed  a 
wish  to  see  you.    Will  you  go  ? " 


CHAPTER  XII 

Del  shrank  back  from  the  paper  which 
Mr.  Middlebrook  offered  her  and  shook 
her  head  at  it  defiantly.  ''No,  no!"  she 
cried,  her  eyes  flashing  with  quick  anger. 
''I  won't  go !  Not  a  single  step.  She  has 
no  right  to  ask  me. ' ' 

Daddy  folded  the  letter  quietly  and  re- 
turned it  to  its  envelope. 

"She  was  cruel  to  Mamma,"  went  on 
Del  in  a  trembling  voice.  ''She  was 
cruel  and  hard  and  unjust.  She  knew 
Mother  was  sick  and  weak  and  she  let 
her  work  and  work  and  work  till — oh! 
I  can't  talk  about  it.  Daddy,  but  I  re- 
member— I  remember!" 

Mr.  Middlebrook  examined  the  direc- 
tion on  the  envelope  of  the  fateful  letter 
and  did  not  utter  a  word. 

"She  made  Mother  give  her  back  the 
last  penny  of  that  horrible  money,  when 
she    knew    how    poor,    poor,    poor    we 


Del's  Debt  197 

were!"  continued  Del  passionately. 
"She  hadn't  any  pity  on  Mamma,  and 
I  have  n't  any  for  her.  I'm  just  paying 
her  back  in  her  own  coin,  so  there!" 

' '  Then  I  am  to  write  that  you  refuse 
to  go!"  enquired  Daddy  in  the  calmest 
of  matter-of-fact  voices. 

Del  started  to  say  ''Yes,"  but  some- 
how a  passing  glance  to  his  face  stopped 
her  short.  There  was  an  expression  in 
his  eyes  that  made  her  uneasy. 

''She — that  woman,  I  mean,"  she  be- 
gan angrily,  then  hesitating,  "She  can't 
make  me  go.  Daddy,  can  she  I  She  has  n't 
any — any  claim  on  me?" 

A  pitying  smile  crept  into  the  corners 
of  Mr.  Middlebrook's  mouth,  but  he  set 
his  lips  against  it  and  answered  very 
seriously,  "No,  Del,  she  can't  make  you 
go  unless  you  choose.  She  has  no  claim 
on  j'ou  beyond  the  claim  of  any  sick  and 
suffering  creature.  She  gave  up  all 
share  in  you  willingly  and  unhesitat- 
ingly, last  autumn.  You  are  my  daugh- 
ter in  sight  of  the  law,  dear,  and  no  one 
else  has  any  legal  right  to  you." 

Del  heaved  a  great  sigh  of  relief.     ' '  0 


198  DeFs  Debt 

I  'm  so  glad ! ' '  she  cried  from  out  of  the 
deepest  place  in  her  heart. 

' '  And  your  answer  to  the  letter  I ' ' 

Daddy's  tone  was  low  and  composed, 
but  again  Del  felt  dimly  uneasy.  She 
raised  her  head  and  looked  into  his  face. 
Their  eyes  met. 

•  ''Daddy,"  she  broke  out  at  last  with 
a  great  effort,  "do — do  you  want  me  to 
go?" 

Mr.  Middlebrook  put  his  hand  on  her 
shoulder  caressingly.  ''I  want  you  to 
do  nothing  your  heart  does  not  tell  you 
is  right,"  he  replied. 

Del's  breath  caught  in  a  frightened 
gasp.  ''But  I' — yes,  I  hate  her!"  she 
stammered  chokingly.  "When  I  think 
of  poor  Mammady  I  sometimes  feel  as 
if  I  'd  like  to  hurt  her.  How  can  I  go 
when  I  feel  that  way?  It  wouldn't  be 
honest — it  wouldn't  be  truthful.  It 
would  be  acting  a  falsehood — doing 
something  I  didn't  feel.  I  can't  be  a 
hypocrite,  Daddy,  and  pretend  I  have 
forgiven  her  when  I  have  n  't. " 

"It  is  not  hypocritical,  Del,  to  act  as 
you  know  you  ought  to  feel.     Persist  in 


Del's  Debt  199 

doing  the  right  thing  and  presently  you 
will/eeHt." 

Del 's  eyes  fell,  and  she  stood  braiding 
her  fingers  together  nervously  while  Mr. 
Middlebrook  waited  patiently  for  her 
answer.  Suddenly  she  gave  a  quick, 
sharp  little  sob.  ''I  '11  go!"  she  whis- 
pered, and  flew  up-etairs  before  he  could 
say  another  word. 

When  the  twins  discovered  what  was 
afoot,  they  broke  out  in  a  perfect  storm 
of  protest.  It  was  "outrageous!"  It 
was  ''unfair!"  It  "looked  exactly  as  if 
Del  didn't  care  a  bit  about  all  her 
mother  had  had  to  bear.  As  if  she  was 
just  made  of  mush  and  hadn't  spirit 
enough  to  be  honestly  angry."  They 
had  "always  thought  there  was  such  a 
thing  as  'righteous  indignation.'  " 

Del  set  her  mouth  and  dressed  her- 
self for  the  trip  in  grim  silence.  Mr. 
Middlebrook  was  to  take  her  to  the  city 
himself  and  to  wait  for  her  in  the  for- 
bidding old  mansion  until  she  should  be 
ready  to  go  home  with  him  again. 

"You  won't  leave  me  there,  will  you, 
Dadd)"?"  she  implored.  "Promise  you 
won't  go  away  and  leave  me." 


200  Del's  Debt 

'' Certainly  I'll  promise  not  to  leave 
you  against  your  will,  Delsie,"  he  as- 
sured her  comfortingly. 

It  was  a  grim,  uninviting  mansion, 
Aunt  Cornelia's,  and  Del's  heart  sank 
into  her  boots  as  they  stood  before  the 
heavy  inhospitable  front  door  waiting  to 
be  admitted.  But  when  the  door  was 
opened  and  they  found  themselves  in  the 
stately  dark  hall,  it  seemed  to  fail  her 
altogether  and  she  had  a  wild  desire  to 
turn  around  and  escape  as  fast  as  she 
could. 

The  walls  were  high  and  covered  with 
paper  that  must  have  been  hung  half  a 
centurj'-  befoi:e.  The  floor  was  tiled 
in  marble :  white,  diamond-shaped  pieces 
with  small  black  ones,  set  in  a  stern 
design.  The  drawing-room  was  dark 
and  swathed  in  clumsy,  ungraceful 
draperies.  Nothing  was  fresh  in  the 
place.  Even  the  air  was  stale  and  op- 
pressive. The  windows  were  closely 
curtained,  and  the  inner  shades  were 
drawn  down  to  their  full  length.  Not  a 
sound  broke  the  stillness.  Del  felt  as 
if  she  were  being  smothered.    She  looked 


DePs  Debt  201 

appealingly  over  at  Mr.  Middlebrook 
and  he  sent  her  a  bright,  encouraging 
smile  in  return. 

''The  young  lady  can  go  up-stairs," 
said  a  low  voice  from  the  doorway,  and 
Aunt  Cornelia's  old  parlor-maid,  Cath- 
erine, who  had  been  in  her  employ  for 
over  forty  years,  stood  like  a  noiseless, 
stiff-backed  sentry  on  the  threshold. 
Del  rose  and  followed  her  with  the  hope- 
less feeling  she  might  have  had  if  she 
had  been  a  prisoner  following  her  jailer 
to  her  cell. 

Mr.  Middlebrook  waited  ten  minutes 
— twenty — half  an  hour.  The  place  was 
as  still  as  death,  and  he  pitied  Del  with 
all  his  heart,  for  he  knew  she  was  having 
"a  hard  row  to  hoe"  up-stairs.  At  last 
he  heard  her  step  upon  the  marble  floor 
of  the  hall.  She  came  directly  to  him, 
and  he  was  able  to  make  out,  even  in  the 
dusk,  that  her  face  was  very  white. 

"She — she  wants  me  not  to  go  away. 
She  wants  me  to  stay  overnight,"  Del 
managed  to  gasp,  her  voice  trembling  on 
the  edge  of  tears. 

Daddy  patted  her  on  the  head  in  his 
kind,  encouraging  way. 


202  Del's  Debt 

''She — she's  very  weak  and  sick  and 
old,"  stumbled  Del,  ''and — and — I — I 
s'pose  I  ought  to-7-but,  oh!  I  can't.  It 
just  kills  me  to  be  here.  She  's  a  dread- 
ful old  woman." 

"I  could  come  early  in  the  forenoon 
to-morrow  and  take  you  home,"  sug- 
gested Mr.  Middlebrook. 

Del's  hands  went  up  to  her  face  and 
covered  it. 

"Well,  then,  gO' — go  quick!"  she 
gasped,  "before  I  know  I — can't  stand 
it!" 

Poor  little  Del !  If  she  had  known  at 
that  moment  how  long  she  was  going  to 
stand  it,  she  would  never  have  had  the 
courage  to  begin.  The  stern-faced, 
harshrvoiced  old  woman  up-stairs,  who 
never  gave  her  a  kind  word  or  a  loving 
glance,  seemed,  notwithstanding,  to  have 
taken  a  curious,  invalid's  fancy  to  her, 
and  it  was  not  in  Del's  heart  to  refuse 
when  the  weakened  voice  labored  to  ask 
her  to  stay.  So,  when  Mr.  Middlebrook 
came  the  next  day,  Del  was  not  ready  to 
return  home  with  him.  He  smiled  at  her 
approvingly  and  let  her  see  he  was 
pleased  with  what  she  was  doing.    The 


Del's  Debt  203 

twins  fretted  and  fumed,  but  day  after 
day  passed  by,  and  still  Del  remained  in 
the  city  with  the  dying  old  woman  who 
did  not  die. 

Every  day  when  they  met  her  at 
school,  May  and  Margaret  tried  to  per- 
suade her  to  go  back  with  them,  but  the 
days  lengthened  into  weeks  and  she  was 
still  at  Aunt  Cornelia's.  Thanksgiving 
came,  and  Del  ate  her  dinner  alone  in 
depressing  state,  in  the  frowning  old 
dining-room  with  the  silent  old  Catherine 
to  wait  upon  her. 

''If  you  're  going  to  be  away  Christ- 
mas," complained  May  bitterly,  ''we  '11 
rise  up  and  strike,  so  there!" 

"This  is  getting  to  be  no  joke,"  la- 
mented Margaret.  "Think  wbat  jolly 
times  we  were  having  last  year,  this 
time. ' ' 

"0  hush!"  begged  Del.  "It  only 
makes  it  all  the  harder  to  bear.  I  just 
have  to  keep  forcing  myself  every  minute 
to  stay  as  it  is,  and  if  I  think  you  miss 
me  so  much,  why — " 

"Miss  you!"  echoed  May  with  an  in- 
dignant snort. 

"I  'm  working  like  a  slavey  over  my 


204  Del's  Debt 

lessons  and  singing,,"  Del  went  on.  ''It 
kind  of  comforts  me  to.  She — Aunt  Cor- 
nelia— doesn't  want  to  see  me  much. 
She  just  wants  to  feel  I  'm  in  the  house, 
I  s'pose,  so  I  have  plenty  of  time  to  my- 
self, and  when  I  come  home  and  sing  to 
you,  you  must  tell  me  if  you  think  I  've 
improved. ' ' 

''If  a  body  only  knew  when  you  ivere 
coming  home,"  May  cried  out  impa- 
tiently. 

Del  shook  her  head. 

That  very  night  she  dreamed  she  was 
in  Paris  singing,  or  rather  trying  to  sing, 
before  Madame  for  the  first  time,  and 
though  she  struggled  and  struggled  to 
make  herself  heard,  she  could  not,  it  ap- 
peared, utter  a  sound.  Her  voice  had 
vanished.  Suddenly  Madame  strode  for- 
ward and  clutched  her  arm  and  shook  it 
violently.  Del  found  herself  choking 
with  rage  and  disappointment,  and  she 
turned  savagely  upon  Madame — to  find 
herself  sitting  up  in  bed,  half  asleep,  at- 
tempting to  thrust  back  old  Catherine, 
who  was  anxiously  trying  to  wake  her. 

"0,  Catherine!    What 's  the  matter? 


Del's  Debt  205 

Did  I  hurt  you!  I  was  dreaming.  I  'm 
Sony, ' '  mumbled  Del  drowsily. 

' '  Hush,  miss.  Please  get  up,  do !  The 
doctor  is  there  and  both  the  nurses,  but 
the  madam  wants  you,  and — they  say — 
it  's  tlie  end,  and  you  'd  better  come. ' ' 

Del  was  wide  awake  in  a  minute.  She 
thrust  on  her  slippers,  flung  on  her  loose 
wrapper,  and  followed  Catherine  along 
the  shadowy  hall  to  the  great,  mysterious 
room  beyond.  She  had  grown  somewhat 
accustomed  to  it,  during  her  stay  in  the 
house,  but  to-night,  though  nothing  about 
it  was  changed,  it  felt  unfamiliar  and 
awe-ful. 

The  doctor  was  standing  by  the  bed- 
side, his  fingers  about  ''the  madam's" 
wrist.  He  laid  her  hand  gently  down  on 
the  counterpane  as  Del  came  forward, 
and  beckoned  her  to  take  his  place.  Aunt 
Cornelia's  face  was  white  and  set,  and 
she  did  not  open  her  eyes  when  Del  bent 
over  her.  But  after  a  while  the  lids  slow- 
ly lifted  and  she  gave  her  a  long  look. 
Del  waited  for  her  to  speak,  but  though 
her  eyes  seemed  trying  to  say  something, 
her  lips  did  not  move.  The  doctor  leaned 
over  toward  the  pillow.    Aunt  Cornelia 

14  —  Del's  Debt 


206  Del's  Debt 

did  not  notice  him.  Her  dumb  eyes  re- 
mained fixed  on  Del.  At  last  Del  could 
endure  their  pitiful  stare  no  longer. 
"Aunt  Cornelia,"  she  whispered  gently, 
*'is  there  anything  you  want  me  to  do? 
I  wish  I  could  help  you."  She  waited, 
but  there  was  no  answer. 

"It  is  too  late,"  the  doctor  mur- 
mured, "she  cannot  speak." 

A  moment  after  he  turned  slowly 
away,  and  Del  heard  a  curious  smothered 
sound  behind  her.  She  turned  and  saw 
old  Catherine  trying  to  strangle  a  sob 
behind  her  apron.  It  was  the  one  sign  of 
grief  she  showed  over  her  stem  old 
madam's  death. 

The  next  morning  Del  went  home. 
How  glad  she  was  to  get  back,  not  even 
Daddy  nor  the  twinnies  could  imagine. 
She  did  not  pretend  to  grieve  over  Aunt 
Cornelia's  death,  but  it  certainly  made 
her  feel  very  serious  and  thoughtful. 
Somehow  she  could  not  get  rid  of  the 
memory  of  those  haunting  eyes. 

"You  see,"  she  explained,  as  they  all 
sat  gathered  around  the  hall-room  fire 
that  evening,  "she  had  made  the  doctor 
and  the  nurses  understand  a  moment  be- 


Del's  Debt  207 

fore  tliat  slie  wanted  me,  and  then,  wlien 
Catherine  called  me  and  I  got  right  np 
and  went  in  to  her,  it  was  too  late :  she 
couldn't  speak  any  more." 

li  'Agree  with  thine  adversary  quickly, 
whiles  thou  art  in  the  way  with  him; 
lest  at  any  time  the  adversary  deliver 
thee  to  the  judge,  and  the  judge  deliver 
thee  to  the  officer,  and  thou  be  cast  into 
prison,'  "  quoted  Mr.  Middlebrook 
gravely. 

The  twins  and  Del  were  silent,  and  for 
the  rest  of  the  evening  very  little  chat- 
ting was  done  around  the  fire,  the  little 
group  thinking  rather  serious  tlioughts. 

Special  business  called  Daddy  to  town 
within  a  few  days,  and  the  girls  were  left 
monarchs  of  all  they  surveyed.  As 
Christmas  was  close  at  hand,  this  suited 
them  exactly,  and  their  preparations 
went  forward  with  particular  vim. 

Del,  who  had  the  least  time  of  the 
three,  and  did  not  feel  she  could  steal 
a  minute  from  her  study  and  practice 
hours,  had  to  plan  and  prepare  her  sur- 
prises before  the  others  were  out  of  bed 
in  the  morning,  or  after  they  had  fallen 
asleep  at  night.     She  had  thought  the 


208  Del's  Debt 

whole  thing  out,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that 
simply  to  buy  them  gifts  with  the  money 
Daddy  gave  her  was  merely  to  return 
to  them  whjat  was,  in  a  sense,  theirs  al- 
ready, and  so  she  took  special  pains  with 
her  presents,  making  them  from  the  be- 
ginning to  end  with  her  own  hands,  and 
repeating  to  herself  all  the  while  the 
words  of  one  of  the  marked  passages  in 
her  mother's  book  of  Emerson's  Essays, 
that  had  grown  to  be  a  sort  of  monitor 
to  her: 

''But  our  tokens  o-f  compliment  and 
love  are  for  the  most  part  barbarous. 
Kings  and  other  jewels  are  not  gifts,  but 
apologies  for  gifts.  The  only  gift  is  a 
portion  of  thyself.  .  .  .  Therefore  the 
poet  brings  his  poem ;  the  miner,  a  gem ; 
the  sailor,  coral  and  shells;  the  painter, 
his  picture;  the  girl,  a  handkerchief  of 
her  own  sewing. ' ' 

"Still,  if  I  had  a  little  money  of  my 
very  own,"  she  thought  wistfully,  "I 
could  buy  nicer  materials  and  choose  the 
patterns  I  like  best.  Well,  never  mind! 
Perhaps  I  '11  be  able  to  earn  some,  some 
day,  and  then — " 

That  ''and  then — "  opened   such  a 


Del's  Debt  209 

beautiful  prospect  of  generous  giving 
that,  whenever  she  said  it,  Del  lost  her- 
self directly  in  a  delightful  day-dream, 
and  had  no  thoughts  left  for  present  dis- 
couragements. But  the  dream  was  to 
come  true  sooner  than  she  expected,  and 
in^quite  a  different  way. 

>^*'Did  you  ever  in  all  your  life  know  of  ^'V^ 
anything  like  the  way  that  telephone-bell 
keeps  ringing,  nowadays,  when  Daddy  is 
home!     I  should  think,  when  Mr.  Gar- 
diner has  him  in  the  city  constantly  day- 
times,   talking   about   troublesome    law 
things,  he  'd  let  him  have  a  little  peace 
in  between,"   said   May  complainingly 
as  the  irritating  tinkle  took  her  father 
hurriedly   from   the   breakfast-table   to 
answer  its  summons.  (  "It  seems  to  me  -» 
I  've  never  known  Daddy  to  be  so  busy.  ^^ 
Can   it   all   be    Christmassing,   do   you 
s'pose?" 

' '  What  would  Mr.  Gardiner  have  to  do 
with  our  Christmas?  Daddy  doesn't 
have  to  consult  his  lawyer  every  time  he 
buys  us  a  present,  does  he?"  demanded 
Margaret. 

The  girls  laughed. 

''Somehow,"  put  in  Del,  ''he  seems  to 


(^>^j 


210  Del's  Debt 

have  something  on  his  mind.  Lots  of 
tunes  lately  I  Ve  caught  him  looking  aw- 
fully solemn  and  as  if  something  was 
going  on  that  made  him  .anxious. " 

**I  've  noticed  it,  too.  What  do  you 
s  'pose  it  is  ? "  ventured  Margaret. 

How  can  we  tell  I"  returned  May, 
puckering  her  brows  thoughtfully. 

"You  don't  s'pose,"  suggested  Mar- 
garet, who  was  rather  good  at  imagining 
calamities,  "he  's  losing  money  or  any- 
thing of  that  sort,  do  you?  0  dear!  If 
we  're  all  going  to  be  paupers,  whatever 
in  the  world  shall  we  do?" 

"I  think  I  could  teach  singing,"  said 
D^k  "In  fact,  I  just  know  I  could.  I 
could  study  in  between  times,  as  Mam- 
mady  did,  and  I  'm  certain  I  could  help 
along." 
^*^  could  n  't  do  an  earthly  thing  any- 
body would  pay  me  a  cent  for, ' '  admitted 
May  bitterly,  "unless,  perhaps,  it  might 
be  to  teach  swimming — which  would  be  a 
lovely  occupation,  now  would  n't  it?" 

"And  in  the  winter-time,  when  you  'd 
need  the  money  most,  you  couldn't  get 
any  pupils,"  jeered  Margaret. 

"I  wish  I  had  learned  to  sew  and  could 


Del's  Debt  2n 

do  housework.  One  can  'live  out,'  as 
Hannah  calls  it,  and  get  real  good 
wages." 

Del  laughed.  ''That  reminds  me," 
she  said,  "that  last  night  I  dreamed  a 
piece  of  poetry.  It  was  lovely.  It  went: 
The  ivages  were  outrages." 
^^^iOl'But  they  're  not,"  declared  May  se- 
riously. ' '  Tliey  're  real  good.  Just  look 
what  Christine  gets — and  her  board  and 
washing  into  the  bargain." 

'*0  me!"  lamented  Margaret,  who 
was  rather  given  to  starting  avalanches 
and  then  getting  terror-stricken  when 
they  began  to  slide,  ''please  let 's  stop 
supposing  horrors.  I  'm  getting  scared 
stiff." 
(  \"Yes,  there  's  no  use  borrowing 
trouble, '*\  laughed  May,  but  her  laugh 
-.^  was  aU'Wieasy  one. 

If  Mr.  Middlebrook  had  not  been  so 
busy  with  his  own  thoughts,  he  would 
have  been  surprised  at  the  subdued 
breakfast-table  he  found  on  his  return. 
He  had  left  the  girls  in  a  gale  of  fun, 
but  it  had  died  down  entirely  while  he 
was  away,  and  it  did  not  break  out  afresh 
when  he  took  his  chair  again.    The  twins 


212  Bel's  Debt 

and  Del  stole  shy  glances  at  him  from 
under  their  eyelashes,  but  they  need  not 
have  bothered  to  veil  their  curiosity :  he 
simply  did  not  notice  them  at  all. 

r' Something  is  the  matter, '\  they 
grunly  telegraphled  one  another  as  the 
moments  slipped  by  and  still  he  did  not 
appear  to  be  aware  of  their  existence. 
.  .'  ^f  Have  some  hot  cbffee,  Daddy ;  yours 
is  cold  J'  said  May  at  last,  with  a  des- 
perate determination  to,  at  least,  break 
the  bewildering  silence  and  make  him 
realize  they  were  alive. 

He  handed  her  his  cup  without  a  word, 
^but  when  she  gave  it  back  to  him  re- 
filled, he  let  it  slip  and  the  coffee  spilled 
over  the  table-cloth.    The  little  accident 
broke  the  spell. 

**You  may  send  me  from  the  table  if 
you  want  to, ' '  Daddy  assured  them,  with 
a  shadow  of  his  old  smile.  ''I  've  been 
very  car^lees  indeed,  and  deserve  to  be 
punished." 
>'/'ty(Very  well,"  said  May  with  pretend- 
ed .briskness.  rWe  '11  set  a  punishment 
for  you  right  Vff,  and  you  '11  have  to 
bear  it.  Tell  us  this  minute,  sir,  what 
ails  you." 


Del's  Debt  213 

''Ails  me?" 
^'"^'■'^-^'^jjYes,    something  's    up.     Something 
^hat  bothers  you.    Confess  now. 'J 

Daddy  nodded  a  rueful  assent. 
'■'>'>l^' And  it  has  to  do  with  money?"  per- 
sisted May. 

' '  Ye — es, ' '  admitted  Daddy  again  with 
an  effort. 

Margaret's  face  and  Del's  turned 
gray,  and  May  gave  a  great  gulp.  Sud- 
denly all  three  sprang  up  and  threw 
themselves  upon  him  bodily,  crying  and 
laughing  and  clinging  to  him  all  at  once. 

''Don't  worry,  Daddy!  Don't  grieve." 

"Who  cares  if  it  is  gone?  You  have 
us  left!" 

"We  don't  mind  being  poor,  Daddy. 
We  '11  be  just  as  jolly  as  can  be,  no  mat- 
ter what  we  have  to  live  on  or  how  much 
we  have  to  scrimp  and  save.  Just  you 
wait  and  see ! ' ' 
■^-^-^  "0,  Daddy,  I  'm  sure  I  can  help  a  lit- 
tle, if  you  '11  only  let  me  try./  -i-ean-teach 
-«6-M€fflafiaady  did^  and  study  too,  and 
I  know  all  about  being  poor,  you  see.  It 
isn't  half  so  bad  as  it  looks,  when  you 
have  the  people  you  love  to  help  you 
bear  it.  "^ 


214  Del's  Debt 


CHAPTER  XIII 

With  three  pairs  of  arms  about  his 
neck  and  three  dead  weights  hanging 
upon  his  shoulders  and  trying  to  comfort 
him  with  their  caresses,  Daddy  found  it 
a  little  difficult  to  speak.  But  as  soon 
as  he  could  manage  to  free  himself  a 
bit  and  recover  the  breath  that  was  being 
fairly  hugged  out  of  him,  he  made  an 
effort. 

''What  does  it  all  mean? — this  de- 
lightful, but — if  you  '11  excuse  me — 
rather  overpowering  demonstration!" 
-^  -K-^Why,  we  just  want  you  to  know  that 
we  love  you  more  than  tongue  can  tell, 
and  that  we  don't  care  a  bit — that  is, 
not  much — ^I  mean,  we  're  sorry,  of 
course,  but  it  can't  be  helped^ — if  you  've 
lost  a  lot  of  money  and  things  and  we  're 
going  to  be  poor." 

Daddy  looked  at  them  for  a  moment 
in  puzzled  wonder. 

''Who  told  you  I  had  lost  a  lot  of 
money,  I  wonder,  and  that  we  are  going 
to  be  poor?" 
yyn^pu^(*0,  no  one  told  us.     But  we  don't 


Del's  Debt  215 

have  to  be  told:  we  can  see  some  things 
for  ourselves." 

''Oho!  and  so  you  've  seen  for  your- 
selves that  I  'm  penniless?" 
■  f  Well,  we  saw  you  were  awfully  taken 
up  'thinking  about  something,  and  you 
confessed  it  bothers  you,  and  that  it  has 
to  do  with  money.)' 

''Surely — so  I  did.  And  you  are  go- 
ing to  stick  by  me  and  help  me  out  of 
my  trouble?  You  're  going  to  be  my 
breadwinners  ? ' ' 
/  yu/^\  '''We  're  going  to  find  something  to  do, 
^^  somehow,  and  Del's  going  to  teach  sing- 
ing. ' ' 

D^ddy  got  up  from  his  chair  rather 
abruptly  and  strode  to  the  window, 
where  he  stood  for  a  moment  with  his 
back  turned  squarely  upon  them.  Sud- 
denly May's  aJert  eyes  almost  started 
out  of  her  head  with  horror.  Daddy's 
shoulders  were  heaving. 
h^u/jM^ ^ He  's  crying!'.'  she  whispered 
breathlessly  to  the  terror-stricken  other 
two,  who  could  see  for  themselves  and 
had  come  to  the  same  conclusion  on  their 
own  account.  No  one  dared  stir  or  say 
a  word.    May  turned  away  her  eyes  in 


216  Del's  Debt 

misery,  Margaret  hid  hers  behind  her 
hands  and  tried  to  crush  back  the  tears, 
and  Del  kept  repeating  over  and  over  to 
herself,  "I  can  help  and  I  will!  I  '11 
pay  my  debt  and  make  hun  happy 
again. ' ' 

A  movement  by  the  window  made 
them  all  look  np,  and  there  stood  Daddy, 
gazing  over  at  them  fondly,  without  a 
trace  of  agitation  in  his  eyes.  To  be 
sure,  he  was  somewhat  flushed,  and  his 
grief  might  have  been  of  the  dry  sort, 
but  the  longer  they  looked,  the  more  they 
had  reason  to  doubt  that  he  had  been 
indulging  in  grief  at  all. 
-yv-/y  **  Daddy  1"  they  shrieked  in  a  re- 
■^  proachful  4)reath,  f'you 've  been  laugh- 
ing at  us  !r  ^ 

He  tried  to  protect  himself  from  them, 
but  it  was  no  use.  "Forgive  me!  I 
did  n  't  mean  to !  I  could  n  't  help  it ! " 
t_^u<y  i^But  it 's  mean  to  make  fun  of  us  1" 
y  **1  was  n't  making  fun.  I  had  no  idea 
of  making  fun !  I  am  at  this  moment  en- 
gaged in  respecting  you  immensely. 
You  have  proved  yourselves  such  thor- 
ough good  girls,  all  three  of  you — so 
courageous  and  loyal  and  womanly.     I 


Del's  Debt  217 

just  couldn't  control  myself.    I  had  to 
*  chortle  in  my  joy.'  " 

"But  we're  in  dead  earnest.  We 
really  mean  to  put  our  shoulders  to  the 
wheel  and  help."; 

"Bravo!     Ana   so   you   shall — ^when 

it  's   necessary.     If   I   need   assistance 

some  day,  I  '11  know  where  to  find  it. 

But  just  at  present  I  'm  not  in  the  least 

bothered  about  my  prospects." 

,  The  girls  stared  at  each  other  blankly. 

v-'t.-'t^fWhy — ee!    You  said  you  were/"  they 

"^       stammered  out  confusedly. 

"Pardon  me,  I  didn't.  I  never  said 
I  was  bothered  about  my  prospects.  I  'm 
bothered — in  a  way — I  '^1  admit,  but  not 
about  iny  prospects." 

"Kow  we  're  discussing  the  subject, 
I  may  as  well  tell  you — I  'm  bothered — 
considerably  bothered  —  about  Del 's 
prospects.  Hush!  Don't  interrupt.  Sit 
down  quietly  and  let  me  explain.  Aunt 
Cornelia  has  left  Del  her  fortune.il 

For  a  second  the  twins  gazed  at  him 
stupidly. 

"Wha — at?"  they  gasped  in  open- 
mouthed  astonishment. 


218  Del's  Debt 

Del  herself  did  not  make  a  sound. 

''Aunt  Cornelia  has  left  her  entire 
property  to  Dellie,"  repeated  Daddy  dis- 
tinctly. ''It  is  a  large  property  and  the 
heavy  responsibilities  it  carries  are  what 
bother  me,  for  while  we  know  how  our 
little  girl  has  borne  poverty,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  tell  how  she  will  bear  riches.  It 
is  the  thought  that  her  money  may  harm 
or  hinder  her  that  bothers  me." 

He  extended  a  kind  hand  and  laid  it 
gently  on  Del's  shoulder. 

The  shock  of  the  sudden  news  and 
what  had  gone  before  it  seemed  to  have 
stunned  her  for  a  moment,  but  the  fa- 
miliar touch  brought  her  to  her  senses 
again.  She  had  hardly  recovered  herself 
before  the  twins  fell  upon  her,  dragged 
her  to  her  feet,  and  began  to  dance  her 
wildly  about  the  room. 

' '  Hurrah  for  Del ! ' '  cried  one. 

"Three  cheers  for  Aunt  Cornelia!" 
shouted  the  other. 

"Of  course,"  said  Mr.  Middlebrook, 
as  soon  as  he  could  restore  order  and 
make  himself  heard,  "this  will  change 
all  Del's  plans  for  the  future.  In  the 
first  place,  she  won't  care  to  devote  her- 


Del's  Debt  219 

self  so  entirely  to  her  singing  as  she  has 
expected  to  do  and — " 

''Why?"  demanded  Del  quickly. 

Daddy  smiled.  ' '  Well,  I  should  hardly 
think — "    He  hesitated. 

''No,  you  should  n't,"  she  declared  de- 
cidedly. "I  know  you  don't  think  that 
of  me,  really.  Why,  how  could  I  give  up 
my  music?  If  the  money  made  me  do 
that,  I  'd  just  hate  it,  so  there !  It  would 
be  like  turning  traitor  to  a  friend  that 
had  stood  by  me  when  I  was  poor,  just 
because  I  happened  to  get  rich.  Why, 
Daddy,  don't  you  see  I  couldn't  give  it 
up?  Nothing  could  make  me  give  it  up. 
Not  money  or — or — anything  else  in  the 
world.  Just  wait  and  see.  Please  don't 
be  bothered  about  me.  Daddy.  Please 
trust  me. ' ' 

"Very  well,  dear,  I  will!  And  in  the 
meantime  we  '11  have  to  drill  you  in 
quite  a  new  course  of  study,  Mr.  Gar- 
diner and  I.  You  will  have  to  learn 
about  the  management  of  your  property, 
for  my  guardianship  will  only  last  until 
you  are  of  age,  and  that  time  is  not  so  far 
off  as  it  once  was.  Mr.  Gardiner  and  I 
are  settling  matters  as  satisfactorily  as 


220  Del's  Debt 

we  can,  but  it  will  take  time ;  and  mean- 
while we  wish  Aunt  Cornelia  had 
thought  well  to  remember  certain  people 
in  her  will  whom  she  seems  to  have  ab- 
solutely forgotten." 

''May  I  know?"  asked  Del. 

' '  Certainly.  I  want  you  to  know.  Old 
Catherine,  for  instance.  The  woman  has 
been  devoted  to  the  madam,  as  she  calls 
her,  for  over  forty  years.  She  is  too 
elderly  now  to  take  kindly  to  new  ways 
in  a  new  place,  and  the  little  money  she 
has  been  able  to  save  won't  support  her 
independently.  I  'm  sorry  for  Cath- 
erine. Then,  it  seems,  there  are  a  couple 
of  young  people — grandchildren,  or 
rather,  step-grandchildren,  of  Aunt  Cor- 
nelia— " 

''Uncle  Cornelia's  grandchildren,  I 
suppose,"  said  May,  helping  her  father 
out. 

''Yes,  Uncle  Cornelia's  grandchil- 
dren," continued  Daddy,  "for  whom  no 
provision  at  all  has  been  made,  which, 
according  to  Aunt  Cornelia's  way  of 
thinking,  was  not  unjust,  since  all  the 
property  came  from  her  own  side  and 
in  no  way  from  her  husband's,  whose 


Del's  Debt  221 

second  wife  she  was.  I  suppose  she 
thought  she  was  doing  a  great  deal  for 
them  when  she  lent  them  money  to  go 
through  college,  without  making  any  ar- 
rangement to  continue  the  loan  in  case 
of  her  death.  You  can  see  that  their 
plans  will  be  quite  upset." 

Del's  eyes  shot  out  indignant  sparks. 
' '  0  Daddy,  it  's  just  dreadful ! ' '  she  ex- 
claimed. ''I  won't  take  the  money  that 
comes  to  me  so  unfairly.  I  just  won't. 
They  must  have  their  share.  Please 
show  me  how  to  make  some  of  the  prop- 
erty over  to  them  right  off." 

Mr.  Middlebrook  laughed.  ''You  re- 
mind me  of  Georgiana  Podsnap,  Delsie. 
Don't  you  remember  where  she  gets  so 
excited  over  the  financial  embarrass- 
ments of  her  dear  Sophronia  and  Alfred 
and  appeals  to  Mr.  Boffin  to  help  her 
make  some  of  her  property  over  some- 
how, to  them?  'If  my  maid  had  a  little 
note  and  half  a  crown,  I  could  run  round 
to  the  pastry-cook's  to  sign  something, 
or  I  could  sign  something  in  the  square 
if  somebody  would  come  and  cough  for 
me  to  let  'em  in  with  a  key,  and  would 
bring  a  pen  and  ink  with  'em,  and  a  bit 

16  — Del's  Debt 


222  Del's  Debt 

of  blotting-paper.'  Unfortunately — or 
fortunately,  Dellie — you  can't  sign  any- 
thing anywhere  that  would  help  you  to 
dispose  of  your  property.  You  have  ab- 
solutely no  control  over  it  whatever  until 
you  are  twenty-one.  You  are  to  have 
an  income  in  the  meantime,  but  it  is  a 
small  one.  You  '11  hardly  find  it  more 
than  enough  to  keep  you  in  hair-rib- 
bons. ' ' 

'*0,  never  mind,"  Del  interrupted 
excitedly.  '  *  As  long  as  it  's  anything  at 
all,  and  belongs  to  me,  I  can  give  it  away, 
and  perhaps  it  's  enough  to  keep  them 
at  college  and  help  Catherine  a  little. ' ' 

"It  is  quite  enough  to  keep  them  at 
college  and  to  help  Catherine  consider- 
ably, ' '  returned  Daddy.  '  *  But  disposing 
of  your  income  so  will  leave  you  with 
absolutely  nothing  over.  Still,  if  you 
can  be  satisfied  with  what  you  are  hav- 
ing now — ^with  what  I  am  able  to  give 
you — " 

**0  Daddy!"  Del  cried  reproachfully. 

She  had  always  insisted  that  she 
*' hated  to  write  letters,"  but  now  she 
could  hardly  wait  to  compose  the  three 
she  intended  to  send  to  old  Catherine 


Del's  Debt  223 

and  ''Uncle  Cornelia's  two  grandcliil- 
dren,"  as  May  insisted  on  calling  tliem. 
It  was  such  fun  to  feel  she  was  able  to 
ease  their  minds  and  make  them  com- 
fortable again. 

' '  Dear  me, ' '  said  Margaret. ' '  It  seems 
as  if  things  would  never  stop  happening, 
now  they  Ve  got  the  habit  of  it  Some- 
how this  year  has  been  the  most  exciting 
one  I  ever  knew  anything  about.  I  won- 
der what  the  new  one  will  be  T ' 

The  new  one  came  in  very  quietly,  and 
the  twins  and  Del,  as  it  went  on,  had  no 
cause  to  complain  of  its  excitement. 
There  were  the  ordinary  routine  of 
school-work,  and  the  occasional  jollifica- 
tions of  last  year,  to  be  sure,  but  nothing 
to  correspond  with  last  year's  fire-scare, 
runaway,  or  "swimming-stunt."  Even 
their  going  abroad  was  not  very  differ- 
ent from  any  other  going  abroad.  Of 
course,  they  were  immensely  interested 
in  it  themselves,  and  spent  weeks  before 
the  time  for  sailing  in  planning  and  re- 
planning  their  route  and  packing  and 
repacking  tbeir  belongings,  but  though 
May  said  she  firmly  expected  it  to  hap- 
pen, their  ship  didn't  blow  up,   their 


224  Del's  Debt 

house  didn't  burn  down,  and  their  bag- 
gage was  n't  drowned  before  they  act- 
ually set  out. 

When  they  finally  found  themselves  on 
the  steamer's  deck,  bidding  farewell  to 
the  crowd  of  friends  that  had  come  down 
to  see  them  off,  they  felt  the  first  faint 
pangs  of  homesickness,  and  realized  that 
they  were  to  be  gone  a  long  time. 

"Good-by,  girls!"  said  Leonard,  with 
a  bluff  air  that  seemed  a  little  forced. 
''Don't  forget  a  fellow  while  you  're 
away.  And  if — if — anything  should  go 
queer  with  the  ship,  May — a — get  out 
and  swim." 

''I  will,  Len;  I  will.  Wish  you  were 
going  along  mit.  It  does  n't  seem  quite 
— quite  legal  to  leave  you  and  Clare  and 
Sally  beliind." 

**A  year  and  a  half  seems  a  thunder- 
ing long  time,"  observed  Bob  White 
drearily,  looking  at  Margaret. 

"0,  DeVs  going  to  be  gone  much 
longer,  even,"  she  returned  reassuring- 
ly. **Del  's  going  to  stay  three  years,  or 
four — as  long  as  she  needs  to.  If  we 
were  going  to  be  gone  as  indefinitely  as 
that—" 


DePs  Debt  225 

Quail  smiled  unsubstantially  and  mur- 
mured something  about  thanking  his 
stars  they  weren't,  and  then  the  last 
warning  bell  clanged,  harshly  bidding 
visitors  to  leave  the  ship. 

At  any  other  time  the  girls  would  have 
been  vastly  interested  in  all  the  rush  and 
commotion  about  them,  the  shouting  of 
the  rough  deck-hands  over  their  heavy 
work  below,  the  noiseless  activity  of  the 
ship's  crew  beyond,  and  the  little  com- 
edies and  tragedies  of  the  passengers 
close  at  hand.  But  when  the  gang-plank 
was  drawn,  and  when  at  last  the  water 
began  to  widen  between  them  and  the 
shore,  they  had  all  they  could  do  to  at- 
tend strictly  to  the  business  of  keeping 
their  feelings  under  control,  and  minding 
their  own  affairs,  which  seemed,  singu- 
larly enough,  to  be  somewhat  depressing 
just  at  the  moment. 

But  when  they  had  actually  got  out  in 
midstream,  turned  about,  and  were 
steaming  majestically  toward  the  Nar- 
rows, their  prospects  seemed  to  brighten 
unaccountably,  and  from  that  time  on 
the  voyage  was  a  grand  success.  For- 
tunately all  of  them  were  fairly  good 


226  Del's  Debt 

sailors,  Del  and  Margaret  being  the  only 
ones  who  at  any  moment  felt  the  least 
faint  twinges  of  seasickness,  and  life  on 
the  ocean-wave  was  all  they  had  pictured 
it  in  their  rosiest  dreams. 

And  then  the  excitement  of  sighting 
land!  And  the  novelty  of  feeling  one's 
self  actually  ''abroad!" 

''  '0  to  be  in  England,  now  that 
April  's  there,'  "  quoted  Daddy  as  they 
wandered  slowly  through  the  lovely 
English  country  after  a  breathless 
month  in  gay  London. 

''Did  you  ever  see  such  lanes  and 
hedges ! ' '  cried  May,  over  and  over  again 
at  every  fresh  turn. 

"And  the  lovely  cowslip  smell !  Wliy, 
it  fills  all  the  air,"  said  Del,  sniffing  it  in 
happily.  "0,  I  just  adore  cowslips! 
They  smell  of  earth  and  outdoors.  It  's 
a  smell  distinct  from  a  mere  scent, 
doesn't  it  seem  so  to  you?  I  suppose 
you  think  I  'm  a  lunatic,  but  it  's  all  so 
beautiful,  and  I  am  so  happy!" 

"And  the  clouds,"  broke  in  Margaret. 
"Do  notice  the  huge  banks  of  them  roll- 
ing in  from  every  side.    Why,  the  sky 


Del's  Debt  227 

at  home   seems   empty  when   one   sees 
this." 

Then  France!  How  foreign  and  cu- 
rious it  all  was !  Paris  proved  a  dream 
of  delight  to  the  twins,  but  to  Del  it 
meant  but  one  thing — Madame ! 

Her  letters  of  introduction  from  her 
teacher  and  others  in  New  York  secured 
her  an  early  appointment,  and  before 
she  had  fairly  had  time  to  unfit  herself 
for  the  ordeal  by  getting  nervous  over  it, 
she  and  Daddy  were  sitting  in  the  mys- 
terious drawing-room,  waiting  for  the 
great  lady  to  appear. 

She  came  in  at  last,  with  much  rustling 
of  trailing  silken  skirts  over  the  highly 
polished  floor,  many  apologies  for  keep- 
ing them  waiting,  and  all  sorts  of  grace- 
ful little  French  nods  and  gracious 
smiles  of  greeting. 

*'Ah,  yes,  she  remembered  Mademoi- 
selle's mother  very  well.  She  had  been 
desolated  to  hear  of  her  death.  Made- 
moiselle resembled  her  adored  Mamma 
somewhat,  it  would  appear.  She  would 
be  fortunate  if  she  inherited  her  voice 
also.  It  had  been  of  a  pleasing  quality, 
though,  helas !  by  no  means  of  a  sufficient 


228  Del's  Debt 

volume.  But  her  method  had  been  ad- 
mirable— naturally,  since  she  had  stud- 
ied diligently  under  Madame 's  own  in- 
struction for  so  many  years.  Probably 
Mademoiselle's  Mamma  had  instructed 
Mademoiselle  to  some  extent!  Yes?  Ah, 
well,  one  would  see!" 

Madame  seated  herself  before  the 
grand  piano  and  motioned  to  Del  to  rise 
and  come  forward.  Daddy's  anxious 
eyes,  following  his  girl,  saw  that  her,face 
was  quite  white,  and  that  her  eyes 
seemed  doubly  dark  and  large  by  con- 
trast. But  her  step  was  firm,  and  when 
she  handed  Madame  the  piece  of  sheet- 
music  from  which  she  was  to  sing,  he 
noticed  that  her  hand  did  not  tremble. 

As  for  Madame — when  at  Del's  first 
note  he  saw  the  great  lady  start  and  flash 
a  quick  look  of  amazement  at  the  girl,  his 
heart  beat  fast  with  gratification  and  de- 
light, and  he  could  hardly  wait  for  the 
end  to  come,  so  eager  was  he  to  hear  the 
praise  he  was  sure  would  follow.  And 
it  did. 

"But — a  la  bonne  heure,  my  child,  you 
astound  me !  Your  mother  had  no  such 
voice  as  this!    You  will  go  far — that  it 


Del's  Debt  229 

is  easy  to  see.  You  inlierit  tlie  singing 
throat  and  you  have  had  some  excellent 
training,  but  one  must  not  forget  that 
glory  cannot  be  attained  without  gigan- 
tic effort.  Work — work — work !  Inces- 
sant study;  unceasing  toil;  endless  per- 
severance! You  will  have  to  struggle 
against  many  difficulties  —  overcome 
countless  obstacles.  Does  the  prospect 
alarm  you?  No?  Ah,  then  j^ou  are  of 
the  right  sort,  and  it  will  give  me  plea- 
sure to  instruct  you.  So — divert  your- 
self with  pleasant  travel  during  the  sum- 
mer, enjoy  yourself  to  your  heart's 
content,  but  above  all,  do  not  fatigue 
your  voice.  Then  return  to  me  in  Oc- 
tober, prepared  for  serious  work,  and — 
we  shall  see ! ' ' 

When  Del  and  Daddy  at  length  took 
their  leave  it  was  with  Madame 's  agree- 
ment signed,  sealed,  and  delivered,  and 
they  seemed  to  tread  on  air. 

''Didn't  we  tell  you  so?  Didn't  we 
tell  you  so?"  shouted  the  twins,  as  soon 
as  they  heard  the  glorious  news.  ''We 
said  you  'd  make  her  sit  up  and  look 
'round. ' ' 


230  Del's  Debt 

''She  doesn't  hear  a  voice  like  yours 
every  day." 

"Hurrah  for  Dellie!" 
' '  Hurrah  for  Madame ! ' ' 
' '  Hurrah  for  Paris ! ' ' 
''Hurrah  for  everything!" 


CHAPTEE  XIV 

? 
The  wonderful  suiter  passed  in  a 

flash. 

"Now  that  the  Oracle  has  spoken," 
said  May,  as  they  were  leaving  Paris, 
"and  the  great  question  of  Del's  career 
is  settled  and  the  country  is  saved,  let's 
make  up  our  minds  to  forget  all  about 
work,  and  just  take  the  O.'s  advice:  'di- 
vert ourselves  with  pleasant  travel,  en- 
joy ourselves  to  our  hearts'  content,  but 
above  all,  do  not  fatigue  our  voices.'  " 

"As  if  any  of  us  were  chatterboxes 
but  you, ' '  jeered  Margaret  with  scorn. 

May  pouted  at  her  saucily.  Daddy  and 
Del  laughed,  the  steam  whistle  of  their 
locomotive  tooted,  and  they  were  off. 

Belgium,  Holland,  Germany,  Switzer- 
land, and  Italy:  a  little  peep  into  each, 


Del's  Debt  231 

with  the  promise  of  a  longer  look  next 
year,  and  then,  before  they  fairly  knew 
it,  Paris  again,  for  it  was  the  last  of 
September,  and  Del  must  be  ready  to 
begin  her  work  as  soon  as  the  Ecole 
shoiild  open. 

The  twins  complained  bitterly  that 
they  saw  nothing  whatever  of  her  that 
winter,  and  they  might  as  well  be  in 
America  for  all  the  good  they  got 
of  her  in  Paris.  Del  was  so  absorbed  in 
her  studies  that  she  let  nothing  interfere 
with  them,  and  when  May  and  Margaret 
wanted  to  ''gallivant,"  as  they  called  it, 
or  go  upon  occasional  small  ''larks"  to 
revive  their  spirits,  they  had  to  content 
themselves  with  each  other  and  Daddy 
for  sole  company. 

By  spring  the  continued  practice  and 
application  had  begun  to  tell  on  Del.  She 
grew  pale  and  languid  and  remembered 
too  late  that  "all  work  and  no  play 
makes  Jack  a  dull  boy. "  So  the  follow- 
ing summer  she  was  "more  like  folks'' 
to  the  immense  relief  of  May  and  Mar- 
garet, who  were  beginning  to  resent  the 
new  claims  upon  what  they  considered 
their  personal  and  particular  property, 


232  Del's  Debt 

and  often  and  often  wished  ''Madame 
and  her  old  lessons  to  Jericho,  if  she  was 
going  to  monopolize  their  Dellie  like 
this." 

Madame,  on  the  other  hand,  breathed 
a  sigh  of  relief  when  at  last  she  heard 
that  the  Middlebrooks  were  to  sail  for 
home.  Her  pupil  would  be  freer  and 
more  independent  without  them. 

'*I  assure  you,  my  dear  sir,"  she  said 
to  Daddy  on  the  occasion  of  his  farewell 
call,  ''Adele  had  not  sung  many  notes 
before  I  recognized  that  she  had  an  ex- 
traordinary musical  gift,  and  I  may  say 
that  I  will  devote  myself  heart  and  soul 
to  her  education.  She  is  a  true  artiste, 
and  withal  she  is  modest,  industrious, 
and  patient.  But  better  than  everything 
else  is  her  superiority  to  all  pettiness 
and  jealousy.  I  have  repeatedly  seen 
her  accept  insignificant  parts  which  all 
her  mates  refused,  and  that  is  a  sign 
of  the  real  artiste,  for  true  genius  is 
never  above  the  humblest  undertaking. 
Ah,  I  assure  you,  I  predict  a  brilliant 
future  for  Adele,  and  will  do  my  best 
to  assist  her  to  realize  it.     You  may 


Del's  Debt  233 

leave  her  in  my  care  with  an  untroubled 
heart.    I  will  be  as  a  mother  to  her." 

So  Daddy  and  the  twins  took  a  tearful 
farewell  of  their  girl,  turned  their  faces 
homeward,  and  left  Del  behind  to  live 
on  in  Paris  without  them. 

At  first  this  did  not  look  as  if  it  were 
going  to  prove  a  very  difficult  undertak- 
ing, for  Mr.  Middlebrook  had  gone  to 
considerable  trouble  to  see  her  comfort- 
ably settled  in  a  pleasant  pension  and  to 
hunt  up  certain  old  and  influential 
friends  of  his  own  who  would  for  his 
sake,  if  for  nothing  else,  keep  an  eye 
upon  her  and  see  that  she  was  not  neg- 
lected. But  her  days  were  too  thorough- 
ly filled  with  business  to  leave  much 
spare  time  for  pleasure.  And  yet,  in 
spite  of  all  this,  and  to  her  own  surprise 
and  dismay,  she  discovered  she  was 
homesick.  At  times  she  even  had  all 
she  could  do  to  control  tlie  longing  that 
swept  over  her  for  a  sight  of  the  dear 
home-faces,  and  had  to  exert  real  self- 
command  to  keep  from  taking  the  next 
steamer  back  to  America.  Wlien  this 
was  the  case,  Madame,  suspecting  some- 
thing was  amiss,  would  manage  to  pile 


234  Del's  Debt 

on  an  extra  amount  of  work,  so  that, 
under  the  stress  of  it,  Del  would  be 
forced  to  forget  herself  for  the  time, 
and  the  danger  of  her  turning  deserter 
would  be  averted. 

She  had  firmly  determined  that  no 
matter  what  took  place  at  the  ^cole,  no 
hint  of  discouragement  or  unhappiness 
on  her  part  should  ever  find  its  way 
home  through  complaining  letters.  But 
it  was  not  easy  to  stick  by  this  resolve 
in  the  midst  of  so  much  heartburning, 
jealousy,  and  petty  spite.  Still,  all  things 
considered,  she  got  along  very  well 
through  three  busy,  uneventful  years, 
and  was  preparing  for  another  of  the 
same  sort  when,  one  day,  after  she  had 
been  singing  before  the  class,  and  had 
rather  astonished  herself  by  the  way 
she  had  managed  a  certain  extremely 
difficult  passage,  Madame  turned  to  her 
and  said: 

*'Adele,  I  have  just  had  a  telegram 
from  Breval.  His  oratorio  Jael  is  to 
be  given  to-morrow  evening,  and  the 
prima  donna  has  been  taken  suddenly 
and  seriously  ill,  so  that  it  will  be  im- 
possible for  her  to  sing.     Breval  is  in 


Del's  Debt  235 

despair  and  begs  me  in  his  despatch  to 
provide  him  at  any  hazard  with  a  Jael. 
Naturally,  to  sing  so  arduous  a  part  at 
such  short  notice  will  be  a  tour  de  force, 
but  you  can  do  it.  Pray  set  to  work 
at  once  upon  the  score  and  be  ready  to 
rehearse  your  role  with  me  this  after- 
noon, and  with  the  orchestra  to-morrow 
morning.  It  is  a  rare  chance  for  you, 
and  you  have  only  to  be  very  brave  and 
self-possessed  and  all  will  be  well.  I 
trust  to  you  not  to  disappoint  me.  En 
attendant,  your  future  may  be  greatly 
affected  by  your  success  here.  Breval 
is  to  lead." 

That  was  all,  but  it  was  enough. 

Throughout  the  rest  of  the  day  Del 
slaved  doggedly  at  her  difficult  role, 
studying  it  carefully,  note  by  note,  bar 
by  bar,  and  growing  more  and  more  ab- 
sorbed in  it  as  she  went  along.  Madame 
gave  her  a  relentless  drill  in  the  after- 
noon, and  then  sent  her  home  with  an 
encouraging  smile  and  the  advice  to 
"rest  well  and  dismiss  it  from  her  mind 
until  to-morrow."  But  that  was  easier 
said  than  done,  and  Del  lay  awake  hour 
after  hour  through  the  best  part  of  the 


236  Del's  Debt 

night,  feverishly  going  over  her  role  and 
fighting  back  all  sorts  of  nightmare  vi- 
sions of  what  would  happen  if  she  failed 
in  it.  Madame 's  despair;  Daddy's  dis- 
appointment; the  twins'  chagrin!  No, 
no,  no!  She  would  not  fail!  Her  only 
way  of  paying  her  debt  to  Daddy  was  to 
succeed.  So  she  would  succeed.  She 
would!    She  would!    She  would! 

By  daybreak  she  had  fallen  into  a 
heavy  sleep,  from  which  she  only  woke 
in  time  to  dress  and  hurry  off  through 
a  melancholy  drizzle  of  rain  to  rehearsal, 
where  Madame  and  Breval  awaited  her 
with  anxious  eagerness.  The  empty, 
white-draped  salle  was  dreary  and  cold 
enough ;  the  orchestra  and  chorus  looked 
dismal  and  forlorn.  Breval 's  nervous- 
ness seemed  to  be  contagious,  and  the  re- 
hearsal was  not  encouraging.  But  at 
noon  the  fog  lifted,  the  air  cleared,  and 
the  sun  broke  through  the  clouds  in  a 
burst  of  golden  glory.  *'It  's  a  good 
omen,"  said  superstitious  Madame,  pat- 
ting Del  encouragingly  upon  the  shoul- 
der as  she  took  leave  of  her  at  the  door, 
while  Del  nodded  cheerfully  back  at  her. 


Del's  Debt  237 

though  she  did  not  in  the  least  believe 
in  omens. 

But  the  sunlight  and  fresh  air  were 
enough  in  themselves  to  raise  her  spirits, 
and  before  she  knew  it  she  was  humming 
contentedly  to  herself,  without  the  shad- 
ow of  a  fear  as  to  what  was  before  her. 

It  was  only  later,  when  she  found  her- 
self upon  the  stage,  surrounded  by  the 
chorus  of  hundreds  of  singers ;  when  she 
heard  the  first  sounds  of  the  immense 
orchestra,  saw  its  famous  leader,  and 
knew  that  amid  all  this,  before  the  larg- 
est audience  she  had  ever  faced,  she 
stood  alone — it  was  only  then  that  her 
courage  seemed  suddenly  to  forsake  her. 
The  lights  grew  dim  and  faded  out  of 
sight,  then  suddenly  flared  bright  again 
and  dazzling.  The  violins  seemed  to 
scream  at  her  and  the  baton  Breval  was 
waving  cut  the  air  with  streaks  of  flame. 

And  then,  in  a  flash,  she  had  ceased 
to  be  herself,  trembling  and  afraid,  and 
had  become  Jael,  fervent  and  fearless — 
Jael,  the  wife  of  Heber,  awaiting  Sisera 
in  her  tent  and  planning  to  slay  him' — 
the  enemy  of  the  Lord — when- he  should 
come.     She  heard  the  blast  of  his  ap- 

la  — Del's  Debt 


238  Del's  Debt 

preaching  trumpets,  the  clash  of  arms, 
and  the  low  murmur  of  the  troubled 
throngs  through  which  the  tyrant 
passed.  She  bade  her  servants  go  and 
proffer  him  the  shelter  of  her  tent ;  she 
saw  their  sullen  looks  as  they  obeyed. 
She  felt  the  treachery  of  the  deed  she 
meant  to  do,  and  yet  exulted  in  it  for 
the  glory  of  Jehovah.  She  watched  Sis- 
era  as  he  entered  at  the  door;  gave  him 
good  welcome,  meat  and  drink ;  and  while 
he  feasted,  cunningly  deceived,  she 
slipped  into  her  girdle  the  great  tent- 
nail  that  should  take  his  life.  She  heard 
him  rail  against  the  prophets,  heard  him 
give  boast  of  his  unconquerable  might, 
and  felt  her  terrible  purpose  strengthen 
in  her  heart.  Then,  when  he  had  feasted 
full  and  deep,  she  bade  him  stretch  him- 
self upon  the  couch  and  rest,  and  she 
would  sing  a  lullaby  meanwhile,  so 
sweet  and  soft  'twould  quell  his  eager 
heart  and  bring  him  soothing  sleep.  And 
so  she  sang  the  lullaby,  and  he  slept. 
And  then — she  drew  the  tent-nail  forth 
and  slew  him  as  he  dreamed,  and  lo! 
when  she  had  done  the  deed  she  heard 


Del's  Debt  239 

the  hosts  on  high  proclaim  her  blessed 
above  all  women. 

**  Blessed  be  Jael,  wife  of  Heber! 
Blessed  be  Jael  above  all  women!"  re- 
sounded the  chorus,  and  when  the  last 
long  triumphant  shout  had  died  away, 
an  echo  of  it  seemed  to  rise  from  beyond, 
which  grew  and  grew  until  it  filled  all 
the  place  and  made  the  very  air  vibrate. 

'^  Bravo!    Bravissima!" 

No,  decidedly  this  was  not  the  chorus 
of  the  hosts  on  high.  Del  came  to  herself 
with  a  shock  of  surprise  to  find  the 
crowd  below  applauding  and  cheering  as 
if  it  had  gone  mad.  Such  calls  and  re- 
calls !  And  such  a  deafening  uproar  as  it 
made.  She  wanted  to  get  away,  but  just 
as  she  was  looking  about  for  some  way 
of  escape  Breval  stepped  forward,  took 
her  hand,  and  led  her,  not  off  the  stage, 
but  down  to  the  footlights,  where,  bow- 
ing low  first  to  the  house  and  then  to 
her,  he  presented  her  with  a  flourish  with 
the  blossom  taken  from  the  lapel  of  his 
coat. 

Then  the  meaning  of  it  all  flashed 
through  her  mind.  She  was  sharing 
Breval 's  triumph  with  him,  and  he  was 


240  Del's  Debt 

publicly  acknowledging  her  right  to  do 
so.    It  was  almost  past  belief. 

Madame,  beaming  and  exultant,  was 
in  her  dressing-room  waiting  to  ' '  enfold 
her  in  an  embrace  the  most  ardent." 
Flowers  were  everywhere,  and  she  was 
at  once  set  upon  by  a  throng  of  eager 
friends  and  acquaintances,  all  anxious  to 
congratulate  her  on  her  triumph  and 
shine  in  her  reflected  glory.  It  was  de- 
lightful, cff  course,  but  it  was  bewilder- 
ing, too,  and  Del  was  glad  when  she  saw 
her  chance  to  escape  from  the  hubbub, 
shut  herself  up  in  her  own  little  room, 
and  think  it  quietly  over  "all  alone  by 
herself."  Poor  child!  As  it  happened, 
she  was  to  have  very  little  time  to  think 
things  over  quietly  all  alone  by  herself 
after  that.  She  woke  the  next  morning 
to  find  herself  famous.  The  papers  were 
full  of  her  praise,  and  her  mail  was 
choked  with  letters  from  Tom,  Dick,  and 
Harry,  high  folk  and  humble  folk,  all 
asking  some  personal  favor  which  they 
took  it  for  granted  she  would  be  glad 
to  honor.  Her  autograph,  her  photo- 
graph, her  consent  to  sing  at  this  charity 
affair  and  that.    There  was  no  end  to  the 


Del's  Debt  241 

requests.  But  the  most  astonishing  let- 
ter of  all  was  one  from  a  noted  impre- 
sario in  town  proposing  that  she  should 
sign  a  three-years '  contract  with  him  at 
once. 

''A  la  bonne  heure,  my  child,"  cried 
Madame  dramatically,  "I  am  dumb  be- 
fore a  good  fortune  so  exceptional. 
Your  career  begins  under  auspices  the 
most  superb.  Helas,  if  your  sainted 
mamma  were  but  here  now  to  witness 
your  brilliant  debut.  How  she  would  re- 
joice to  see  our  patient  efforts  thus  de- 
servedly rewarded." 

Del  flushed.  ^ '  Poor  Mamma ! ' '  she  said 
with  a  sigh.  ''Her  patient  efforts  were 
not  deservedly  rewarded." 

Madame 's  bright  eyes  flashed  out  a 
keen  look  of  suspicion.  "Your  mother 
had  not  your  God-given  voice,  my  child," 
she  ventured  carefully. 

''Ah,  then,  you  see,  my  reward  is  not 
so  deserved,  after  all,"  said  Del,  ''since 
I  have  worked  no  harder  than  she  did, 
and  my  'God- given'  voice  is  not  of  my 
own  making,  not  even  altogether  of 
yours,  though  you  have  done  much  for 
it,  of  course,  chere  Madame.    Mamma's 


242  Del's  Debt 

life  in  Paris  was  a  hard  one,  and  my  own, 
which  has  been  so  easy  by  comparison, 
seems  almost  like  a  reproach  to  me  some- 
times when  I  think  of  what  she  went 
through.  I  suppose  there  are  many  girls 
who  come  here  to  Paris  just  as  she  did, 
to  be  disappointed  just  as  she  was.  It 
hurts  me  to  think  of  it.  But  it  has  been 
put  in  my  power  to  help  some  of  them 
a  little,  and  with  your  assistance  I  am 
going  to  do  it.  With  Mr.  Middlebrook's 
consent  I  have  arranged  to  invest  a  sum 
of  money  here  in  Paris,  the  interest  of 
which  is  to  be  used  by  you  for  the  benefit 
of  girls  who,  like  my  mother,  have  not 
the  means  to  pay  for  their  tuition  and 
living  expenses.  Will  you  accept  the  re- 
sponsibility of  these  scholarships  and 
see  that  they  are  awarded  to  students 
who  really  deserve  them?  I  mean  who 
deserve  them  as  she  did." 

Madame 's  keen  eyes  suddenly  soft- 
ened. 'VBut  certainly,"  she  stammered, 
for  once  in  her  life  at  a  loss  for  words. 
And  Del,  walking  home  for  exercise 
through  the  exhilarating  air  and  brisk 
boulevards,  hummed  happily  to  herself 
on  the  way  because  she  had  ''squared" 


Del's  Debt  243 

her  mother's  '* account"  with  Madame 
and  had  closed  the  book  for  good  and 
all. 

Barring  he.r  still  unpaid  debt  to  Dad- 
dy, she  felt  she  stood  even  with  the 
world,  for  she  really  did  try  to  "pay  up" 
as  she  went  along,  leaving  no  obligations 
behind  to  hamper  and  embarrass  her. 
Moreover,  her  way  of  settling  her  little 
bills  left  only  pleasant  memories  be- 
hind, and  she  was  grateful  to  Daddy  for 
having  helped  her  over  the  first  difficult 
time  of  reckoning  with  Aunt  Cornelia, 
when  it  would  have  been  the  easiest  thing 
in  the  world  to  make  an  unhappy  blunder 
which  would  have  left  her  with  a  ''dif- 
ference" to  struggle  with  for  the  rest 
of  her  life.  But  with  all  her  good  mem- 
ory for  outstanding  accounts,  one  little 
''balance  brought  forward"  had  slipped 
her  mind,  and  when  she  suddenly  came 
face  to  face  with  her  creditor,  she  had  to 
make  an  effort  to  recollect  precisely  what 
it  was  she  owed  him,  and  how  it  came 
about  that  she  owed  him,  such  a  perfect 
stranger,  anything  at  all. 

She  had  been  singing  at  a  large  and 
extremely   fashionable   charity   concert, 


244  Del's  Debt 

and  was  being  lionized  to  anything  but 
her  heart's  content,  for  the  tedious  per- 
formance had  already  begun  to  bore  her, 
when  in  the  midst  of  the  crush  she  saw 
a  certain  dapper  young  Marquis  of  her 
acquaintance  struggling  to  make  his  way 
toward  her  with  a  large  and  distin- 
guished person  moving  grandly  after  at 
his  heels. 

At  sight  of  them  Del's  eyes  began  to 
twinkle.  *'A  busy  little  tug  towing  a 
barge, ' '  she  thought  naughtily.  She  was 
tired  of  playing  Dignity  and  felt  just  in 
the  mischievous  mood  to  frivol.  The 
fussy  little  Marquis  had  the  most  elab- 
orate of  manners,  and  he  brought  them 
out  in  full  force  now,  while  Del  smiled 
patiently  at  his  compliments  and  tried 
to  act  as  if  she  believed  that  he  believed 
in  the  smallest  fraction  of  all  he  was 
saying. 

*'Ah,  but  a  thousand  pardons,"  he 
apologized  after  a  moment.  ' '  I  am  keep- 
ing my  companion,  who  is  on  the  point 
to  expire  from  eagerness  to  meet  you, 
in  anguish  by  my  delay.  With  your  gra- 
cious permission  allow  me  to  present  a 
compatriot   of  your  own,   chere  made- 


Del's  Debt  245 

moiselle;  a  friend  whom  I  encountered 
during  my  recent  sojourn  in  your  so 
adorable  country.  Monsieur  Creigliton- 
Cartwright,  Mademoiselle  Douglas  — 
the  divinest  of  songstresses." 

Creighton  Cartwright!  Where  had 
she  heard  that  name  before,  and  why  was 
it  dimly  familiar  to  her?  In  a  flash  her 
thoughts  were  far  away — years  and 
miles  away — going  back,  back,  and  back 
to  a  summer  day  long  ago  when  the  sun 
had  shone  and  the  Sound  had  glittered 
and  a  little  bright-haired  head  with  a 
jaunty  red  cap  perched  atop  was  sighted 
coming  slowly  and  wearily  inshore,  while 
a  dainty  white  skiff  with  a  sulky  rower 
at  the  oars  followed  after,  gracelessly 
enough. 

Cracar !  Yes,  this  was  Cracar  himself, 
but  oh!  how  changed  in  manners  and 
temper!  No  one  could  be  more  cour- 
teous in  his  behavior  or  show  a  more 
sincere  desire  to  be  cordial.  But  he  still 
carried  his  chin  in  the  air,  and  this,  to- 
gether with  his  little  assumption  of  fa- 
miliarity, as  if  he  were  an  old  acquaint- 
ance, jarred  on  Del  and  made  her  long 
to  take  him  down  a  peg. 


246  Del's  Debt 


('( 


0,  yes.  I  recall  you  perfectly,"  she 
assured  him,  with  complete  good  nature, 
when  he  referred  to  "those  jolly  old  days 
in  Hillborough."  ''Of  course  I  recall 
you."  Her  lips  began  to  twitch  a  little 
wickedly.  ''How  could  I  possibly  forget 
the  sender  of  that  scrumptious,  as  we 
called  it  then,  box  of  candy?" 

' '  Eh — what  ? ' '  stammered  Cracar  puz- 
zled.   "What  box  of  candy,  I  wonder?" 

"Why,  the  one  you  sent  my  sister, 
May  Middlebrook,  you  know.  You  can't 
have  forgotten  her  great  swim,  surely! 
My  sister  is  a  famous  swimmer.  Marquis. 
Mr.  Cartwright  promised  her  a  five- 
pound  box  of  bonbons  if  she  outdistanced 
him,  and  she  did,  and,  naturallj^,  he  kept 
his  word,  as  a  man  of  honor  should. 
With  what  was  characteristic  modesty, 
he  forebore  to  enclose  his  card  in  the 
box,  but  we  girls  hadn't  a  doubt  as  to 
the  real  sender  of  the  goodies,  and  while 
we  feasted  royally  on  sweets  for  the  next 
two  days,  we  ate  to  his  health  in  choco- 
late creams  and  caramels,  and  voted  him 
a  gentleman  and  a  scholar. ' ' 

"What  felicity!"  chirruped  the  Mar- 
quis amiably. 


Del's  Debt  247 

''0,  I  say,"  said  Cracar,  reddening, 
"I  can  see  you  're  quizzing  me.  I  had 
quite  forgotten  the  affair,  don't  you 
know,  but  now  it  all  comes  back  to  me, 
and  I  remember  I  did  omit  to  enclose 
my  card  in  the  box.  I  'd  meant  to,  but  at 
the  last  moment  it  was  overlooked,  and 
then^ — to  tell  you  the  honest  truth — I 
did  n  't  think  it  worth  while  to  writfe  a 
note  to  Miss  May,  explaining.  I  was  a 
great  ass,  I  suspect.  I  remember  I 
thought  her  quite  an  infant,  and  myself 
a  miracle  of  age  and  wisdom.  I  thought 
the  whole  thing  a  bore,  and  I  got  rid  of 
it  as  quickly  and  easily  as  I  could." 

It  was  Del's  turn  now  to  flush.  ^'You 
mean — ^j^ou  really  sent  the  candy? — af- 
ter alU—you?"^ 

Cracar  looked  down  at  her  over  that 
lifted,  supercilious  chin  of  his.  "After 
all — f"  he  asked.  ''Of  course  I  sent  the 
candy.  What  makes  you  ask?  0 — oh! 
I  see.  You  thought  differently.  You 
thought  I  had  not  sent  it.  That  I  did  n't 
keep  my  word —    That  some  one  else — " 

Del  did  not  answer. 

"1  'm  afraid  it  was  a  case  of  the  dev- 
il's  not  being  quite   so  black   as  he  's 


248  Del's  Debt 

painted,"  resumed  Cracar  gravely.  ''I 
evidently  made  myself  cordially  dis- 
liked, and  so  you  tliought  me  capable  of 
anything. ' ' 

Del  made  a  great  effort  and  broke 
into  a  light  laugh. 

''No,  it  was  you  that  thought  yourself 
capable  of  anything,"  she  returned 
mockingly.  ''You  left  a  'majestic  mem- 
ory' behind,  and  you  oughtn't  to  won- 
der, when  you  recollect  how  nobly  you  ac- 
quitted yourself  during  your  two  short 
visits  to  Hillborough.  Honor  where  hon- 
or is  due,  is  it  not  so,  Ma.rquis?" 

"But  truly,"  murmured, the  Marquis 
with  promptness. 

Cracar 's  color  suddenly  deepened.  As 
a  general  rule  he  was  as  ready  with  his 
tongue  as  the  next  man,  but  somehow  he 
found  himself  utterly  at  a  loss  for  words 
in  which  to  respond  to  the  quiet  chaff 
of  this  much-talked-of  young  beauty  to 
whom  all  Paris  was  so  eager  to  do  hom- 
age, and  whose  friendship  would  be  a 
distinction.  He  was  by  no  means  a  dull- 
witted  fellow,  and  now  that  his  behavior 
as  Leonard's  guest  was  recalled  to  his 
mind,  he  remembered  that  it  had  been 


Del's  Debt  249 

rather  shabby,  and  that  no  one  was  to 
blame  but  himself  if  the  girls  thoroughly 
detested  him.  He  thought  of  the  run- 
away, for  which  he  had  been  responsible, 
and  his  ungallant  conduct  to  May  in  the 
swimming  affair.  He  saw  that  Del  had 
been  aware  of  everything,  and  he  would 
have  given  worlds  to  blot  the  impression 
from  her  mind. 

**0,  I  was  a  clumsy  young  cub  in 
those  days,"  he  said  at  last  laboriously, 
''and  I  haven't  a  doubt  I  behaved  like 
one." 

Del  smiled,  but  did  not  deny  it. 

''I  'm  awfully  punished,  though.  Miss 
Douglas, ' '  he  went  on  unhappily.  ' '  It  'vS 
hard  luck  to  'know  you  've  kept  my  sins 
in  mind  all  tliese  years  and  borne  me  a 
grudge." 

This  time  Del  laughed  outright. 

''But  I,  haven't  kept  your  sins  in 
mind,"  she  replied.  "I  assure  you,  I 
haven't  given  them  a  thought  till  this 
hour,  and,  as  for  bearing  you  a  grudge 
— I  have  n  't  the  faintest  shadow  of  an 
ill  feeling  toward  you." 

"You  mean,  you  'd  utterly  forgotten 
me,  sins  and  all — that  I  'm  too  insignifi- 


250  Del's  Debt 

cant  to  cause  you  any  feeling  one  way  or 
the  other?"  he  broke  out  bitterly. 

Del  grew  suddenly  grave.  "You  did 
behave  badly,"  she  admitted  honestly, 
*  *  and  you  deserved  a  reminder,  for  I  ob- 
serve that  you  still  have  a  bit  of  your 
old  '  See-the-conquering-hero-comes '  air, 
but  as  I  've  been  saucy  enough  to  give 
you  the  reminder,  I  'm  in  fault  too,  and 
I  think  we  may  fairly  cry  quits." 

' '  And  begin  over  and  be  friends  ? "  he 
demanded  eagerly. 

Del  pursed  her  lips  an  instant.  ' '  That 
sounds  like  a  pretty  large  contract,"  she 
said,  carrying  it  off  lightly.  "And  my 
father  has  just  cabled  that  he  hopes  I 
won't  consider  any  contracts  until  I  've 
been  home.  I  've  been  away  for  four 
years  and  a  half,  and  he  thinks  it 's  time 
I  went  back,  and  so  do  I.  So — good-by, 
Mr.  Cartwright.    Au  revoir,  Marquis." 


CHAPTER  XV 

"The  Emperor's  birthday  fete!  She  's 
going  to  sing  at  the  Emperor's  birthday 
fete!"  shouted  May  excitedly,  looking 


Del's  Debt  251 

up  from  the  rustling  sheet  of  steamer- 
paper  she  had  been  reading,  and  waving 
it,  with  its  half-dozen  closely-written  fel- 
lows, madly  about  her  head.  ' '  Margaret 
Middlebrook,  do  you  hear  that?  Daddy, 
do  you  ?  Just  think  what  it  means !  She 
tells  of  it  as  if  it  didn't  amount  to  any- 
thing, but  that's  just  the  way  she  did 
about  Jael.  We  'd  never  have  known 
anything  unusual  had  happened  when 
she  sang  Jael  if  we  hadn't  read  the 
accounts  of  it  in  the  Paris  papers  the 
Charpentiers  sent  over.  0,  it  's  all  very 
well  to  be  modest,  but  it  's  unsatisfac- 
tory when  your  relations  want  news. ' ' 

*'Go  on  and  read,"  urged  Margaret. 

'*  'It  seems,'  "  continued  May,  going 
on  and  reading  with  prompt  obedience, 
*'  'some  great  and  grand  German  indi- 
vidual was  in  the  audience  when  Jael 
was  given,  and  on  the  strength  of  his 
approval  I  've  been  invited  to  Berlin — 
which  virtually  means  summoned  there 
— to  sing  at  the  Emperor's  birthday 
f^te,  on  January  27th.  Madame  seems 
pleased. 

''  'DeMarcey,  here,  was  disappointed 
and  a  little  inclined  to  be  angry  because 


252  Del's  Debt 

I  would  not  sign  his  three-years'  con- 
tract, but  I  explained  as  politely  as  1 
could,  and  Madame  was  very  charming 
to  him,  and  I  think  he  's  mollified.  At 
all  events,  when  we  parted,  he  put  out  his 
hand,  wished  me  all  good  fortune,  and 
said  he  was  ready  at  any  time  to  offer 
me  tlie  best  of  terms,  which  sent  Madame 
into  ecstasies,  for  she  had  been  sadly 
afraid  I  would  injure  my  prospects  in 
declining  his  proposition.  She  said 
such  advantageous  terms  and  opportu- 
nities as  he  offered  me  were  m^de  in  the 
case  of  noted  prima  donni,  and  that  as 
a  mere  debutante  I  had  been  singularly 
favored. 

''  '0  dearest  Daddy,  Madame  is  en- 
thusiastic over  the  scholarship  plan,  and 
as  soon  as  I  return  home  and  am  able 
to  control  Aunt  Cornelia's  estate,  you 
and  Mr.  Gardiner  must  put  the  thing  in 
running  order  for  me.  Will  you?  I 
want  that  property  to  be  what  it  has 
never  been  before,  a  great  blessing  to  a 
great  many  people.  I  'm  sure  now  that  I 
can  support  myself,  and  so  poor  Aunt 
Cornelia's  money  may  be  put  to  other 


Del's  Debt  253 

uses,  and  her  economy  may,  after  all, 
prove  a  benefit  to  the  world. 

''  'Twinnies,  dear,  what  do  yon  think? 
I  had  tlie  strangest  experience  the  other 
day.  I  had  been  singing  at  the  Hotel  of 
the  Comtesse  de  Neuilly,  in  the  Fau- 
bourg St.  Germain,  for  the  benefit  of 
Les  Invalides.  All  at  once  in  the  midst  of 
the  crush  after  the  concert  I  saw  the 
little  Marquis  de  Brisson  coming  towa,rd 
me,  tugging  •  after  him  a  splendiferous 
creature,  tall  as  the  Eiffel  Tower,  and 
really  very  handsome,  but  with  a  Here- 
am-I,  little- jumping- Jo  an  air  that  spoilt 
it  all.  He  looked  at  the  aristocratic 
throng  down  the  bridge  of  his  nose  as  if 
it  had  been  composed  of  fishwives  (the 
throng,  not  the  bridge)  and  he  were 
Marie  Antoinette,  or  somebody  equally 
as  high-born  and  hotty.  Well,  up  they 
came,  the  little  Marquis  and  the  Great 
I  Am,  and  who  do  you  think  the  G.  I.  A. 
proved?  May's  old  enemy — Cracar!  At 
first  he  was  inclined  to  be  a  bit  presump- 
tuous, and  spoke  familiarly  and  with  a 
magnificent  air  of  those  ''jolly  old  days 
in  Hillborough,"  but  when  I  reminded 
him  gently,  but  firmly,  of  how  he  'd  be- 

17  —  Del's  Debt 


254  Del's  Debt 

haved  in  "those  jolly  old  days,"  he 
grew  quite  humble  and  was  really  rather 
nice  and  manly.  I  was  wicked  enough  to 
enjoy  seeing  him  grovel,  but  it  took  some 
of  the  wind  out  of  my  sails  when  I  found 
he  had  really  sent  the  candy,  and  not 
Leonard  at  all.  I  could  see  it  cut  him 
up  awfully  that  we  had  thought  him  ca- 
pable of  not  paying  his  debts.  I 
wouldn't  take  him  seriously  a  bit,  and 
this  must  have  been  the  unkindest  cut 
of  all,  for  he  takes  himself  very  seri- 
ously, indeed.  Still,  I  can  imagine  he 
would  n't  be  so  bad  if  he  'd  been  properly 
brought  up.  He  's  really  very  much  im- 
proved as  it  is,  and  when  he  goes  home, 
I  think  you.  May,  might  take  him  in  hand 
and  teach  him  his  A  B  C's.  It  would 
be  missionary  work. '  ' ' 

Margaret  laughed  out  at  this*  *'Tell 
Leonard  that.  May.  I  think  I  see  him 
willing  to  have  you  take  Cracar  in  hand 
for  educational  purposes." 

May  flushed.  ''Perhaps  Bob  would  be 
willing  to  have  you  do  it, ' '  she  suggested 
demurely. 

Daddy  smiled.  * '  Stop  your  pea-shoot- 
ing, girls,"  he  said,  ''and  listen  to  the 


Del's  Debt  255 

words  of  Wisdom — that  is,  listen  to  Me ! 
I  think  it  's  about  time  you  wrote  to 
Dellie  and  told  her  of  your  engagements. 
You  Ve  kept  her  in  the  dark  long  enough 
and  it  isn't  sisterly." 

' '  But  we  wanted  to  surprise  her, ' '  ob- 
jected the  twins.  ''We  wanted  to  wait 
until  she  came  home,  and  then  break  the 
news  with  a  grand  crash." 

"But,  you  see,  all  this  furore  about 
her  abroad  has  delayed  her  home-com- 
ing. She  is  n't  to  sail  until  spring  now, 
and  if  you  are  to  be  married  in  April, 
why,  it  seems  to  me  that  's  pretty  close 
calculation,  and  you  might  find,  when  the 
time  came,  that  something  beside  the 
news  was  being  broken  with  a  grand 
crash." 

The  twins  considered. 

"I  guess  you  're  right,"  announced 
May  presently.  *'I  '11  write  to  her  to-day, 
and  tell  her  all  about  it,  and  explain 
just  why  we  didn't  tell  her  before. 
Though,  goodness!  If  she's  a  modest 
violet  about  her  triumphs,  I  guess  we 
have  a  right  to  be  about  ours." 

How  Daddy  laughed ! 

' '  So  you  call  Leonard  and  Robert '  tri- 


256  Del's  Debt 

umplisT'  lie  exclaimed,  immensely 
amused. 

'  *  I  call  having  them  care  for  us  so  ter- 
ribly much,  one,"  May  declared  stoutly 
and  with  a  look  that  caused  her  father's 
heart  to  rejoice. 

''You  're  right,  my  daughter,"  he  de- 
clared with  a  sudden  gravity.  ' '  To  have 
fairly  won  the  honest  love  of  a  true- 
hearted  man  is  a  triumph,  as  great  as 
any  the  world  has  to  offer." 

So  the  amazing  news  was  sent  hasten- 
ing across  the  water,  and  Del  found  time, 
in  the  midst  of  her  breathlessly  busy  life, 
to  sit  down  and  have  a  hearty  laugh  and 
cry  over  it  in  good,  old-fashioned  style. 

*'It  's  going  to  be  a  double  wedding,  of 
course,"  wrote  May,  ''and  it  wouldn't 
be  valid  without  you,  so,  as  soon  as  you 
have  sung  before  the  Emperor,  come 
back  and  shed  some  of  your  glory  on  us. 
In  all  seriousness,  Delsie,  we  're  fairly 
starving  for  a  sight  of  you.  Think  of 
it!  Over  three  years  since  we  said  good- 
by  I  It  seems  like  a  lifetime,  for  we  miss 
you  every  minute,  and  are  so  homesick 
we  can  hardly  wait. ' ' 

The  Emperor's  fete  and  the  rest  of  her 


Del's  Debt  257 

notable  engagements  dwindled  into  insig- 
nificance before  this  all-important  one  in 
Del's  mind,  and  she  would  have  given 
worlds  to  be  able  to  cancel  every  promise 
she  had  made  and  hurry  home  as  fast 
as  steam  could  carry  her,  to  the  dear  sis- 
ters and  father  whose  love  was  more 
precious  than  all  the  adulation  of  all  the 
appreciative  publics  in  Europe.  But  the 
best  she  could  do  under  the  circum- 
stances was  to  rush  out  then  and  there, 
select  and  buy  the  royales.t  engagement 
gifts  she  could  find,  pay  for  them  with 
her  own  self-earned  money,  and  send 
them,  as  her  substitutes,  posting  across 
the  Atlantic,  with  a  world  of  love  and 
longing  shut  up  in  their  tightly  sealed 
boxes. 

But,  however  Del  felt  about  it,  the 
world  didn't  seem  inclined  to  stop  be- 
cause May  and  Margaret  Middlebrook 
were  going  to  be  married.  It  appeared, 
if  anything,  to  revolve  a  little  faster,  and 
the  days  and  nights  flashed  by  with  such 
remarkable  rapidity  that  before  she  fair- 
ly realized  it  she  was  on  her  way  to  Ber- 
lin to  obey  the  Emperor's  summons  and 
sing   at   his   birthday   fete.     She   knew 


258  Del's  Debt 

the  city  well,  but  in  its  gay  holiday  dress, 
with  flags  flying,  regimental  bands  play- 
ing, and  merrymaking  crowds  thronging 
the  lively  streets  and  squares,  it  seemed 
doubly  good-humored  and  hospitable, 
and  she  felt  at  home  in  it  at  once.  But  it 
was  quite  another  thing  where  her  sing- 
ing was  concerned.  She  had  never  sung 
before  a  German  audience,  and  who 
could  tell  whether  it  would  approve  of 
her  or  not!  It  might  receive  her  kindly, 
and  then  again — 

But  Del  set  her  teeth  and  squarely  re- 
fused to  think  of  the  chance  of  its  not 
receiving  her  kindly. 

'^1  '11  do  my  best,"  she  said  to  herself 
as  she  stood  in  her  dressing-room  on  the 
great  gala-night,  preparing  to  *'go  on." 
''I  '11  do  my  best  and  if  that  doesn't 
satisfy  them,  why — " 

"  Du  hast  Diamanten  und  Perlen, 
Hast  Alles  was  Menschen  begehr; 
Du  hast  die  schonsten  Augen: 

Mein'  Liebchen,  was  willst  du  noch  mehr  ? " 

hummed  some  one  in  a  comfortable  un- 
dertone in  the  passageway  just  outside 
her  door. 


Del's  Debt  259 

Del  laughed.  ''That  's  precisely  it," 
she  assured  herself.  ' 'I  '11  do  my  best — 
und,  Mein  Liebchen,  was  willst  du  noch 
mehr  ? ' ' 

The  Opera-house  was  packed  to  suf- 
focation. There  were  august  aristo- 
crats, diplomats  with  lined,  care-worn 
faces,  savants  with  deep-set  eyes  and 
frowning  brows,  musicians,  artists,  mili- 
tary men,  and  University  students. 
There  was  a  great  deal  of  bowing,  and 
fluttering  of  fans,  a  great  deal  of  whis- 
pering and  nodding  from  one  to  another. 
But  suddenly  all  this  ceased  and  there 
was  a  deep  hush.  Every  one  rose.  The 
Emperor  and  his  party  had  entered  the 
imperial  box.  The  Emperor  took  his 
place.  At  a  gesture  the  audience 
reseated  itself,  the  leader's  baton  was 
raised,  and  the  music  began. 

How  the  twins  would  have  enjoyed  it 
all!  The  murmur  and  stir  that  rose 
when  Del  was  led  forward,  and  the  cau- 
tious, reticent  applause  that  followed. 
Here  was  a  young  woman  that  Paris  was 
in  a  furore  over.  Well,  what  then? 
Paris  and  Berlin  were  two  different 
places — Gott  sei  dank!  She  was  unde- 


260  Del's  Debt 

niably  beautiful,  that  any  one  could  see, 
but  her  voice — ihre  Stimme !  A  beautiful 
woman  is  one  thing — a  beautiful  Kiinst- 
lerin  quite  another,  and  it  is  well  known 
that  the  French  as  a  people  are  hot- 
headed, impressionable,  and  liable  to  let 
their  momentary  impulses  run  away  with 
them,  while  with  the  Germans  it  is  quite 
a  different  story.  The  Germans  are  mu- 
sicians through  and  through,  and  they 
judge  the  Kiinstler  first  and  the  rest 
afterward.  They  are  cautious,  cool,  not 
inflammable.  So,  if  this  young  person 
has  come  here  with  the  idea  that  she  is 
going  to  pull  the  wool  over  honest  Ger- 
man eyes  because  of  her  lovely  American 
face  and  her  Paris  prestige,  why,  she 
will  find  herself  mistaken  to  be. 

Del  had  not  been  on  the  stage  an  in- 
stant before  she  felt  that  if  the  audience 
was  not  actually  hostile  to  her  it  was, 
at  the  least,  most  coldly  critical.  She  set 
her  lips  together  tight  and  took  a  long, 
deep  breath.  *'I  '11  make  them  like  me 
yet,"  she  said  in  her  heart  with  a  deter- 
mination worthy  of  May  herself  on  her 
mettle. 

But  the  next  moment  she  had  forgot- 


Del's  Debt  261 

ten  her  resolve — forgotten  everything 
but  that  she  was  singing.  What  was  it 
to  her  that  the  Emperor  leaned  forward 
in  his  loge  and  gazed  at  her  with  a  fixed 
expression  of  intense  appreciation,  that 
the  Empress 's  mild  eyes  were  moist  with 
tears,  and  that  the  grave  and  non-com- 
mittal Berlin  audience  was  on  the  point 
of  losing  its  head  in  spite  of  itself.  She 
was  in  a  world  of  her  own  with  which 
this  world  about  her  ha.d  nothing  to  do, 
and  she  only  woke  from  dreams  to  fact 
when,  at  the  end  of  her  great  number,  the 
air  seemed  fairly  to  explode  with  a  deaf- 
ening report  of  bravos.  It  was  the 
Paris  demonstration  over  again,  only 
this  was  wilder.  The  people  gave  way 
without  reserve.  They  clapped  their 
hands  and  stamped  their  feet.  Handker- 
chiefs were  waved,  and  her  name  shouted 
again  and  again.  The  Empress  even 
rose  in  her  box  and  flung  her  own  bou- 
quet upon  the  stage,  where  it  fell  at  Del 's 
feet  amid  a  tumult  that  was  fairly  be- 
wildering. It  all  ended  in  the  horses  that 
were  before  her  carriage  being  unhar- 
nessed and  led  aside  while  a  crowd  of 
gallant  Studenten  placed  themselves  in 


262  Del's  Debt 

the  shafts  and  dragged  her  home,  giving 
her  a  rousing  ''Dreimal  hoch!"  as  she 
passed  through  their  lines  on  her  way 
to  her  door. 

The  next  day  the  Emperor  and  Em- 
press summoned  her  to  the  palace,  gave 
her  a  splendid  jewelled  bracelet  as  a 
souvenir,  and  dismissed  her  graciously 
after  a  friendly  little  call,  in  which  they 
said  all  sorts  of  cordial  and  kindly  things 
about  her  work. 

' '  So  this  is  unimpressionable  Berlin ! ' ' 
she  thought  with  a  wicked  little  laugh 
of  triumph  as  she  rode  home  through 
the  wide,  tree-lined  avenue  and  tried  to 
escape  the  notice  of  the  too-enthusiastic 
public,  that  insisted  on  recognizing  her 
and  naively  referring  to  her  in  perfectly 
audible  tones  as  **Die  wunderschone 
Amerikanerin. ' ' 

But  January  was  gone.  February 
would  slip  by  in  no  time,  and  then,  in 
March,  she  would  sail  for  home.  After 
almost  five  years  of  exile,  she  would  see 
the  dear  mother-country  once  more.  It 
made  her  heart  beat  fast  just  to  think  of 
it.  How  good  it  would  seem  to  see  the 
familiar  Hillborough  faces  again.    Bluff 


Del's  Debt  263 

Doctor  Emmet  and  Sally,  the  Vans,  Mrs. 
Jud,  and  Rlioda.  She  forgot  no  one; 
and  as  her  trunks  were  being  packed, 
many  a  little  token  was  tucked  away  here 
and  there  that  later  would  be  taken  out 
for  the  benefit  of  the  good  friends  who 
had  been  kind  to  her  long  ago,  when  she 
was  a  stranger  and  they  took  her  in. 

So  one  by  one  the  days  raced  by.  Her 
last  engagement  was  filled,  her  last  call 
made,  her  farewells  said,  and — she  was 
off! 

She  had  expected  to  meet  a  party  of 
friends  at  Havre  under  whose  protect- 
ing wing  she  was  to  take  the  voyage, 
but  at  the  last  moment  came  a  despatch 
sajdng  they  had  been  detained  and  would 
not  be  able  to  sail  for  another  month. 
It  was  a  disappointment,  for  she  dreaded 
the  trip  alone.  Her  fame  always  flying 
before  her,  she  could  not  walk  the  street 
without  being  conscious  of  numberless 
eyes  upon  her  and  numberless  tongues 
whispering  her  name,  and  the  experience 
was  so  new  as  yet  that  she  was  unable 
to  take  it  as  a  matter  of  course.  So,  as 
she  leaned  against  the  deck's  rail,  look- 
ing her  last  on  France  and  regretting 


264  Del's  Debt 

the  accident  that  had  delayed  the  Char- 
pentiers,  she  almost  wished  she  could  go 
back  and  wait  until  they  could  join  her, 
so  she  would  feel  she  had  some  one  on 
whom  she  could  depend,  who  would  pro- 
tect her  from  the  intrusions  of  the  ever- 
present  lion-hunter. 

But  it  was  too  late  now.  A  great  bell 
clanged,  a  shrill  whistle  blew,  and  the 
band  struck  up  a  crashing  Sousa  march. 
A  moment  more  and  the  ship  would 
move.  Del  leaned  forward  to  wave  a 
gallant  farewell  to  a  group  of  friends  on 
the  wharf,  that  had  come  to  see  her  off. 

** Adieu!  Adieu!"  she  called,  her  voice 
trembling  in  spite  of  her  resolve  to  be 
quite,  quite  self-controlled. 

*'Non,  non!  Pas  adieu!  Au  revoir!" 

The  hearty  shout  rose,  clear  and 
strong,  above  all  the  noise  and  hubbub 
on  the  wharf,  and  came  from  the  great 
crowd  itself,  for  it  had  recognized  her, 
and  this  was  its  parting  token  of  honest 
good  will.  The  whole  thing  was  so  sud- 
den and  unexpected  that  for  a  moment 
Del  shrank  back  overcome,  while  the 
crowd  on  deck  closed  about  her  more 
compactly  than  ever  as  if  to  show  that 


Del's  Debt  265 

for  five  days  at  least  it  would  have  her 
at  its  mercy.  But  the  next  instant  she 
bent  forward  eagerly,  peering  down  into 
the  crowd  on  the  wharf  with  wide-open, 
anxious  eyes,  for  she  had  caught  sight 
of  two  figures  hurrying  forward  toward 
the  gangplank — a  man  and  a  woman, 
and  one  of  them  she  knew. 

Robinson  Crusoe  cast  away  on  his 
desert  island  could  not  have  welcomed 
the  sight  of  Friday  with  more  hearty 
gratitude  than  Del  now  did  the  sight  of 
— Cracar. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

'*  'Sister  Anne,  Sister  Anne,  do  you 
see  any  one  coming?'  "  laughed  May  in 
a  voice  that  was  intended  to  be  mocking 
but  was  merely  anxious  and  eager.  She 
and  Margaret  were  standing  by  the  hall- 
room  window  gazing  out  into  the  early 
dusk,  waiting  for  Daddy  to  bring  Del  ' 
to  them  from  the  ship. 

"The  train  has  been  in  for  ever  so 
long,"  reported  Margaret  almost  irri- 
tably,  wearying   of   the    suspense.    '^I 


266  Del's  Debt 

heard  the  whistle  half  an  hour  ago. 
Why  don't  they  come?" 

''0,  they  '11  be  along  presently,"  said 
May,  trying  to  appear  unconcerned  and 
failing  utterly.     ''What  's  the  use  of — " 

But  the  sentence  was  never  finished, 
for  the  sound  of  wheels  sent  both  the 
girls  flying  like  the  wind  to  the  door  and 
out  into  the  chill  evening  air,  where  they 
stood  shouting  and  dancing  like  two  ex- 
cited children,  before  the  carriage  had 
even  whirled  round  the  sweep  of  the 
driveway,  much  less  come  to  a  halt  be- 
neath the  porte-cochere. 

''Delsie!  Delsie!  Welcome  home!" 

*'0  Del,  dear  old  girl!  but  it  's  good 
to  have  you  back ! ' ' 

No  one  ever  knew  how  it  was  accom- 
plished, but  the  next  instant  they  were  in 
each  others'  arms,  laughing,  crying,  ex- 
claiming, and  protesting,  as  if  they  had 
been  three  little  school-girls  with  no 
sense  of  propriety  at  all,  while  Daddy, 
quite  neglected  for  the  time  and  not 
minding  it  a  bit,  stood  by  and  watched 
the  silly  performance  with  gratified 
eyes. 

''But  you  were  so  late,"  expostulated 


Del's  Debt  267 

Margaret  when  the  first  wild  flurry  had 
somewhat  subsided  and  Mrs.  Austen  and 
Christine  and  the  rest  had  had  their  turn 
at  welcoming  the  traveller  and  had  quiet- 
ly disappeared  to  go  into  raptures  over 
her  outside.  ''We  thought  you  'd  never 
come!" 

Daddy  laughed.  "I  assure  you  we 
made  remarkable  time,  considering,"  he 
said.  "But  you  '11  find  it  is  no  joke  go- 
ing about  with  Delsie  nowadays.  There 
were  half  a  dozen  reporters  waiting  to 
interview  her  on  the  ship  and  a  brace 
of  them  following  us  to  the  hotel.  She 
seems  to  have  an  endless  chain  of  friends 
who  have  known  her  in  Paris,  heard  her 
sing  at  Berlin,  and  met  her  in  London 
or  Vienna,  and  they  spring  up  at  every 
foot-length  and  insist  upon  having  long 
heart-to-heart  talks  then  and  there  with- 
out regard  to  time,  place,  or  circum- 
stance, anxious  Daddys,  or  eager  twins. 
While,  as  to  lion-hunting  strangers,  their 
name  is  legion,  and  they  are  the  most 
insistent  and  intrusive  of  all." 

May  thrust  out  her  lower  lip  in  scorn 
of  the  whole  lot.  *'I  hate  such  non- 
sense," she  said  in  her  quick,  decided 


268  Del's  Debt 

way.  * '  And  when  I  'm  out  with  Del  I  '11 
squelch  every  hero-worshipper  in  sight. 
Now  you  see  if  I  don't.  I  'm  not  going 
to  stand  by  and  have  Dellie  victimized. ' ' 

''Under  the  circumstances,  if  Dellie  is 
wise,"  said  Daddy  quite  seriously, 
*'she  '11  choose  some  other  companion 
then.  It  would  be  very  poor  policy,  if  it 
were  nothing  worse,  to  treat  her  grateful 
public  discourteously.  But  if  we  want 
to  help  her,  we  can  do  as  Mr.  Cartwright 
did  on  the  way  over — act  as  buffer  and 
take  the  first  shock  of  the  concussions." 

''Mr.  Cartwright!  The  way  over!" 
echoed  Margaret  blankly. 

"I  should  rather  think  so,"  laughed 
Daddy,  amused  at  her  tone  and  expres- 
sion, "and  a  mighty  handsome  chap  he 
is  too.  A  little  high-stepping,  perhaps, 
but  very  manly  and  prepossessing  not- 
withstanding. ' ' 

"He  and  his  sister,  Mrs.  Neilson,  hap- 
pened to  sail  on  my  ship — or  I  happened 
to  sail  on  theirs,"  explained  Del  easily, 
"and  they  saved  my  life  coming  over, 
for  I  should  have  died  if  I  hadn't  had 
them  as  standbys.  Strictly  among  our- 
selves, I  don't  like  to  be  stared  at,  and  I 


Del's  Debt  269 

simply  hate  to  be  talked  to  and  gusbed 
over  by  strangers. '^ 

May  gave  a  great  sigh  that  developed 
into  a  groan. 

''I  see  the  whole  thing,"  she  declared 
prophetically.  '*He  saved  your  life. 
People  always  marry  people  who  save 
their  lives.  You  '11  marry  Cracar.  I 
see  it.  I  know  it.  And  I  shall  perfectly 
loathe  it.  I  '11  forbid  the  bans.  But 
you  '11  marry  him  all  the  same.  It 's 
fate!  0 — quel  horreur!  as  Jeanne  Char- 
pentier  says,"  and  she  wrung  her  hands 
in  a  spirit  of  high  tragedy. 

''Don't  be  afraid,"  returned  Del, 
laughing.  ''My  career  is  settled.  I 
wasn't  born  to  be  a  lady  of  leisure,  as 
you  and  Margaret  are.  I  'm  a  working 
woman  and  I  '11  have  to  fulfill  my  des- 
tiny. I  've  got  the  most  splendiferous 
contract  in  my  bag  this  minute  and  if 
Daddy  approves — ^why — but  oh!  let  *s 
not  talk  of  business  now.  I  want  to  for- 
get it  and  for  the  remainder  of  the  time 
you  're  home  be  just  as  we  were  years 
ago,  when  we  were  little  girls,  before  you 
began  to  dream,  of  weddings  and  things, 

18  — Del's  Debt 


270  Del's  Debt 

or  I  had  an  idea  of  the  real  nature  of 
business  agreements." 

And  so  it  actually  proved.  From,  that 
time  on  the  days  were  so  filled  with 
preparations  for  the  great  event  of  the 
double  wedding  and  the  thousand  and 
one  engagements  that  May  and  Margaret 
had  recklessly  made  for  Del  with  friends 
anxious  to  welcome  her  home,  that  amid 
all  the  rush  and  bustle  she  quite  forgot 
her  own  affairs  in  her  interest  in  those 
of  the  twins.  She  seldom  caught  sight 
of  Daddy,  he  was  so  continually  occupied 
in  his  library  or  in  the  city,  and  she  her- 
self was  so  absorbed  in  the  work  of  over- 
seeing and  directing. 

But  at  last  came  an  evening  when  he 
said: 

''Come,  girls,  it 's  late,  I  know,  but 
now  Leonard  and  Robert  have  gone,  I 
think  I  can  claim  you  for  a  minute  or  so. 
It 's  the  last  chance  we  shall  have  to  be 
together.  To-morrow  everything  will  be 
in  such  confusion  that  I  won't  have  an 
opportunity  to  get  you  alone,  and  by 
evening  you  will  be  gone.  So  come  and 
let  me  forget  I  am  the  father  of  grown 


Del's  Debt     .  271 

women  now  and  pretend  you  are  little 
girls  again." 

He  sat  down  in  his  great  chair  by  the 
hall-room  window,  May  perched  on  one 
arm  and  Margaret  on  the  other  just  as 
in  years  gone  by,  while  Del  sat  at  his 
feet  with  her  hands  clasped  about  her 
knee,  looking  into  the  future  and  think- 
ing very  sober  thoughts.  At  first  they 
were  a  little  silent,  and  then  the  twins, 
wishing,  perhaps,  to  have  this  last  even- 
ing a  jolly  one,  began  to  chatter  away 
as  merrily  as  possible,  leaving  no  chance 
for  talk  of  a  more  serious  kind. 

Mr.  Middlebrook  joined  in  every  now 
and  then  with  a  word  or  laugh,  but  by 
and  by  Del  noticed  that  in  the  constant 
clatter  of  the  girls '  busy  tongues  he  had 
slipped  into  silence,  and,  missing  the 
sound  of  his  hearty  voice,  she  turned 
her  head  a  little  to  discover  the  cause. 
The  twins  were  leaning  back  against  the 
cushion  of  his  chair,  still  keeping  up 
their  stream  of  nonsense,  while  he  was 
bending  a  little  forward,  his  elbow  rest- 
ing on  Margaret 's  knee  and  his  forehead 
propped  by  his  hand.  He  was  looking, 
not  into  the  clear  starry  sky  of  the  fair 


272  .       Del's  Debt 

April  niglit,  but  far  beyond  it,  mth  sad, 
unseeing  eyes,  and  on  bis  face  was  an 
expression  Del  bad  never  seen  tbere  be- 
fore. For  the  first  time  she  realized 
that  her  father  was  growing  old,  that 
his  hair  was  nearly  white.  In  that  mo- 
ment he  looked  lonely,  bowed,  and  aged, 
and  Del's  heart  cried  out  to  him  in  ten- 
derest  love  and  pity. 

Then  a  thought  struck  her !  How  many 
times  in  the  coming  years,  when  the  girls 
were  in  their  own  homes  and  she  earn- 
ing honors  far  away,  would  he  sit  here 
in  his  loneliness,  with  that  same  look 
upon  his  face,  forsaken  and  deserted 
by  those  whose  lives-  he  had  made  so 
bright,  with  none  to  know  whether  he 
grieved  or  made  merry  ?  She  felt  a  quick 
tightening  at  her  throat  as  though  some 
strong  hand  h-ad  clutched  it  about.  She 
rose  and  in  a  moment  Daddy  had  risen 
too  and  was  saying  cheerily : 

"Well,  good-night,  my  girls,  and  may 
God  bless  you,  all  tliree."  His  mood 
had  passed,  but  Del  could  not  forget. 

They  kissed  him  again  and  again,  and 
then  the  girls  ran  rollicking  up-stairs 
like  very  children,  but  in  the  middle  of 


Del's  Debt  273 

the  landing  Del  suddenly  stopped,  and, 
murinnring  a  word  about  having  forgot- 
ten something  in  the  hall-room,  went 
back  and  made  her  way  to  where  Daddy 
was  standing,'  before  the  table  with  his 
hands  behind  liim.  Del  put  her  arms 
about  his  neck  and  kissed  him  softly.  He 
turned  half  round  and  then  laid  his  hand 
lovingly  on  her  head.  * '  Dear  child ! "  he 
said. 

It  was  very,  very  late  before  the  twins 
could  be  induced  to  leave  her  room  and 
go  to  their  own,  and  even  then  they  in- 
sisted on  talking  back  and  forth.  But 
at  last  all  was  still,  and  then  a  white- 
robed  figure  stole  softly  to  their  doors 
and  closed  them  and  made  them  fast. 

Del  went  to  the  window  and  pulled 
aside  the  curtain.  The  moon,  streaming 
in,  cast  a  silver  light  upon  her  slender 
figure,  her  loosened  hair,  and  her  pale, 
stricken  face.  But  she  did  not  notice 
the  moonlight  nor  the  shadows  nor  the 
swaying  of  the  branches  in  the  garden 
below.  What  she  saw  was  the  bowed 
head  of  a  lonely  figure  in  a  forsaken 
house. 

''0  God!"  she  cried  at  last,  ^'I  cannot 


274  Del's  Debt 

do  it !  I  cannot  do  it !  I  cannot  leave  him 
alone  and  yet — and  yet — " 

She  thought  of  the  debt  she  owed  him 
— the  debt  of  love,  of  care,  of  unchang- 
ing devotion.  Could  her  fame  and  honor 
repay  him  in  his  hours  of  loneliness,  for 
these?  She  had  believed  they  would,  and 
had  striven  for  them  that  they  might. 
It  had  been  her  one  thought  all  these 
yearS' — to  earn  fame  and  honor  for  his 
sake.  And  now — But  now  all  that  was 
changed.  In  one  moment  she  had  seen 
that  as  little  as  her  childish  notion  of  a 
payment  in  money  could  serve,  so  little 
could  her  later  idea  of  a  payment  in 
fame  and  honor.  They  were  sweet  to 
her,  but  they  would  not  serve  him  as 
companions  in  all  the  coming  years. 
She  must  cancel  her  debt  by  other  means 
than  this. 

''How  can  I  give  it  up,  how  can  I 
give  it  up?"  she  wailed.  "I  have 
worked  so  hard  for  it  and  it  is  so  pre- 
cious to  me,  my  art!  my  beloved  art!  If 
he  were  only  poor,  I  could  provide  for 
him  and  still  sing  and  feel  I  was  doing 
my  duty  by  using  my  voice  to  earn 
money  to  get  him  comforts,  but  noW' — 


Del's  Debt  275 

never  to  sing  again!  Hush!  Who  gave 
me  the  power  of  gaining  all  I  have?  0, 
ungrateful!  ungrateful! — and  to  leave 
him  now!" 

For  hours  she  struggled  between  her 
duty  and  her  ambition,  waging  the  fierc- 
est battle  she  had  ever  known.  Then, 
just  as  the  gray  morning  light  was  wak- 
ing slowly  over  the  dusky  hills,  she  rose 
from  the  chair  before  which  she  had  been 
kneeling,  and,  creeping  slowly  to  the 
empty  fireplace,  looked  up  at  the  pictured 
face  of  her  dead  mother  above  it  and 
whispered  between  her  sobs : 

''It  is  over,  Mammady,  it  is  over.  I 
will  pay  my  debt — to  the  last. ' ' 


**  'Happy  is  the  bride  the  sun  shines 
on!'  "  quoted  Del  merrily  as  she  drew 
back  the  curtains  in  her  room  and  let 
the  flood  of  golden  April  light  stream  in 
at  the  window.  She  had  determined  that 
no  cloud  should  dim  the  happiness  of 
this  day,  and  had  put  her  own  cares 
aside  to  devote  herself  body  and  mind 
to  the  twins. 


276  Del's  Debt 

The  house  was  beset  with  workmen, 
maids  were  running  to  and  fro,  bells 
were  ringing,  dishes  clattering,  ques- 
tions were  asked  which  no  one  had  the 
time  to  answer,  and  mistakes  made  in 
consequence  that  took  double  the  time 
to  set  right.  It  seemed  almost  certain 
at  one  moment  that  the  caterer's  men 
from  the  city  had  missed  the  train  and 
that  there  would  be  no  wedding  break- 
fast, and  quite  as  sure,  the  next,  that, 
though  the  breakfast  had  arrived  in  good 
order,  the  musicians  had  failed  to  put  in 
an  appearance,  while  in  the  midst  of  it 
all  Mrs.  Jud  and  Rhoda  arrived,  deter- 
mined to  have  ''a  good  look  round  and 
see  if  it  was  really  true  that  Mr.  Middle- 
brook  had  had  a  tent  put  up  that  reached 
clear  from  the  church  door  to  the  gut- 
ter." 

But  the  tremendous  tangle  was 
straight-ened  out  somehow,  the  workmen 
and  the  hubbub  disappeared  together, 
and  what  remained  was  a  vision  of  a 
beautiful  old  house  that  seemed  to  look 
out  from  a  living  mass  of  flowers. 

Of  course  no  one  could  put  the  last 
touches  to  the  brides'  toilets  but  Del. 


Del's  Debt  277 

No  one  could  know  so  well  as  Del  just 
how  the  veils  ought  to  be  pinned,  and 
no  one  but  Del  seemed  to  be  able- to 
tell  whether  she  stood  on  her  head  or 
her  heels. 

Clare,  Sally,  Marie  White,  and  a  pretty 
cousin  of  the  Vans  fluttered  about  in 
their  dainty  bridesmaids'  dresses  like 
great  white  butterflies,  while  Leonard 
and  Robert,  pretending  to  be  perfectly 
composed,  were  the  most  agitated  of  all. 

Poor  ''Quail"  in  particular  ''took  it 
hard,"  as  Leonard  condolingly  observed ; 
and  what  with  his  nervousness  and  the 
warmth  of  the  day,  which  was  unusual 
for  early  April,  found  himself  mopping 
his  brow  till  Leonard  sympathetically, 
and  with  much  manner,  offered  him  a 
towel  as  being  more  likely  to  stand  the 
strain  of  his  emotion  than  his  handker- 
chief. 

Robert  took  the  towel  with  a  good 
grace  and  in  a  moment  Leonard's  own 
preoccupation  made  him  forget  all  about 
his  little  joke.  But  the  little  joke  came 
near  spoiling  the  effect  of  the  bridal  pro- 
cession. 

The  church  was  crowded,  the  organ 


278  Del's  Debt 

sounding  the  first  notes  of  the  wedding- 
march  from  Lohengrin,  and  the  bridal- 
party  had  formed  and  was  waiting  in 
the  church  vestibule  for  the  sign  to  move 
forward,  when  Del,  doing  double  duty 
as  mistress  of  ceremonies  and  maid-of- 
honor,  and  peeping  tJirough  the  small 
oval  window  in  the  green-leathern  door 
to  see  that  all  was  right  and  the  proper 
moment  had  come  to  advance,  fell  back 
in  dismay  at  the  sight  of  Leonard  and 
Robert  emerging  from  the  vestry-door  to 
meet  their  brides — Robert  brandishing 
what  looked  like  an  enormous  flag  of 
truce. 

For  a  moment  Del  quivered  between 
an  almost  irresistible  impulse  to  laugh 
or  cry  or  do  both  together.  Then  she 
flung  back  her  head  determinedly  and 
gave  the  word  to  start.  There  was  no 
way  out  of  it.  They  would  have  to 
march  up  and  face  the  worst. 

''Great  Scott!  man!'*  whispered 
Leonard  between  his  set  teeth  as  he  and 
Robert  were  passing  through  the  vestry- 
door,  "what  's  that  you  Ve  got  in  your 
hand?" 

Robert  gave  a  start,  looked  down,  saw 


Del's  Debt  279 

the  towel  he  was  absent-mindedly  clutch- 
ing, and  with  a  quick,  deft  jerk  flung  it 
into  one  of  the  *'Amen  pews"  as  he 
passed  along,  thanking  his  stars,  as  he 
did  so,  that  all  eyes  had  been  turned  in 
the  otlier  direction  to  see  the  brides' 
party  advance,  and  that  his  blunder  had 
therefore  probably  escaped  notice. 

So,  after  all,  nothing  happened  to  mar 
the  beautiful  ceremony,  and  only  one  or 
two  of  the  guests  saw  anything  more 
than  a  poor  pun  in  Leonard's  allusion,  in 
his  after-breakfast  speech,  to  his  new 
brother-in-law's  "white  badge  of  cour- 
age," his  ''indestructible  presence  of 
mind,"  and  his  ''special  qualification, 
which  ought  to  be  brought  to  the  notice 
of  the  Government,  as  a  bearer  of  the 
flag  of  truce  in  time  of  conflict." 

Robert  retorted  in  kind,  the  bride- 
cakes were  cut,  the  bridal-bouquets 
tossed  for  luck,  the  rice  and  confetti 
showered  on  the  escaping  couples,  and 
then,  by  sundown,  the  house  was  de- 
serted. 

As  Del  looked  around  at  the  awful  con- 
fusion and  realized  what  an  amount  of 
work  must  be  done  before  order  could 


280  Del's  Debt 

be  restored,  she  sighed.  But  the  follow- 
ing days,  full  to  the  brim  with  common- 
place duties  and  wholesome  cares,  were 
just  what  she  needed  to  keep  her  from 
dwelling  on  her  heartache,  and,  without 
knowing  it,  she  was  relieving  her  mind 
by  fatiguing  her  body. 

Mrs.  Austen  told  Christine  ''Miss  Del 
was  the  greatest  comfort  a  body  could 
possibly  'ave  habout  the  'ouse.  So  'elp- 
ful  hand  hefificient,"  and  Christine  tossed 
her  head  and  did  not  reply,  for  in  her 
opinion  Mrs.  Austen  counted  altogether 
too  much  on  Miss  Del's  'elpfulness  and 
hefficiency  and  imposed  on  her  good  na- 
ture abominably. 

"I  'm  afraid,"  said  Daddy  at  last,  for 
the  first  time  noticing  her  pale  cheeks, 
''that  you  Ve  been  working  too  hard, 
dear.  You  Ve  fairly  worn  yourself  out. 
Come,  there  's  a  beautiful  moon  and  the 
air  is  quite  mild.  Slip  on  a  wrap  and 
we  '11  sit  out  on  the  veranda  for  a  while, 
and  the  rest  and  quiet  will  do  us  both 
good." 

She  followed  him  outside,  and  when  he 
took  a  seat  in  one  of  the  great  porch- 


Del's  Debt  281 

chairs,  slie  dropped  wearily  iipoii  a  low 
willow  stool  at  his  knee. 

It  was  quite  a  while  before  either  of 
them  spoke.  Then  Mr.  Middlebrook, 
laying  his  hand  upon  the  shining  head, 
said  quietly  enough  but  with  an  effort 
to  appear  quite  cheerful,  ^'Well,  two  of 
my  girls  are  gone,  and  now,  I  suppose, 
my  third  girl  will  be  leaving  me  soon. 
We  must  decide  about  the  contract  to- 
night, Del.  To-morrow  is  the  twentietli. 
Conrad  will  want  his  answer. ' ' 

She  did  not  reply  for  a  moment. 
Then  she  said  slowly: 

* '  Have  you  read  the  contract  1 ' ' 

He  responded  at  once.  ''Why,  yes, 
my  dear,  and  it  is  a  rare  good  thing  for 
you.  If  anything  could  pay  me  for  the 
loss  of  you  it  would  be  the  thought  of 
your  fame,  as  the  thought  of  the  twins' 
happiness  reconciles  me  to  the  loss  of 
them.  When  the  old  man  is  left  to  him- 
self he  can  think  of  his  girls'  good 
fortune  and  be  glad  even  if — even  if  he 
does  feel — lonely — sometimes. ' ' 

Then  Del  turned  slowly  round,  and  be- 
fore he  could  prevent  her,  she  was  kneel- 


282  Del's  Debt 

ing  before  him,  her  forehead  upon  his 
knee. 

"0,  never  lonely  again,  Daddy,  dear- 
est 1  Never  lonely  again.  I  could  not 
leave  you  to  be  sad.  I  have  given  it  all 
up.  I  will  never  sing  but  for  you.  Do 
not  say  I  must  go,  for  I  could  not — I  will 
not." 

She  did  not  see  Daddy's  face,  for  her 
own  was  hidden,  but  after  a  moment  she 
felt  his  firm  hands  raising  her  and  heard 
his  clear  voice  sajdng : 

''If  there  has  ever  been  a  time,  dear 
child,  when  you  felt  you  owed  me  any- 
thing, know  now  that  you  have  paid  me 
to  the  full,  overpaid  me,  time  and  time 
again.  The  love  we  have  given  you,  you 
have  returned  a  thousandfold,  and  so 
with  duty  and  devotion  and  all  the  rest. 
You  have  been  an  inestimable  blessing 
to  us  all,  Del,  more  precious  than  you 
can  ever  know — one  for  which  I  am 
grateful  to  God  every  day  I  live.  How 
poorly  I  should  be  repaying  Him  if  I  let 
you  do  as  you  propose — sacrifice  His 
great  gift  to  you  and  the  world  for  my 
own  poor  selfish  comfort.  No,  Del,  dear 
child.   You  owe  me  nothing  that  you  have 


Del's  Debt  283 

not  already  paid  and  are  not  paying 
again  daily  and  with  interest.  But  yon 
owe  it  to  God,  who  gave  you  your  glori- 
ous voice,  to  use  it  in  His  world  and  for 
His  glory.  Come!  Look  up!  And  give 
me  your  word  you  will  pay  the  debt — 
honorably,  to  the  last  note. ' ' 

And  so  it  was  that  Del  took  up  her  new 
and  heaviest  debt  of  all  and  gave  her 
word  to  pay  it. 


THE  END. 


-^ 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  126  815 


